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WOMEN  OF  COLONIAL    AND 
RE  VOL  UTIONA R  Y  TlMES?s== 


MERCY  WARREN 

BY  ALICE  BROWN 


WITH  PORTRAIT 


CHARLES  SCRIBNERS  SONS 

NEW  YORK  MDCCCXCVI 


Copyright,  1896,  by 
Charles  Scribner's  Sons 


fflm&rrsttn  IJrrss : 
JOHN  WILSON  AND  SON,  CAMBRIDGE,  U.S.A. 


i 

I 


7V/£  DESCENDANTS 

OF 

MERCY    OTIS    WARREN 
xr 

PLYMOUTH  AND  AT  DEDHAM 


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287923 


PREFACE 

There  are  few  consecutive  incidents,  save  the 
catalogue  of  births,  marriages,  and  deaths,  to 
be  gathered  concerning  the  life  of  Mercy  Otis 
Warren.  Therefore  it  seems  necessary  to  regard 
her  through  those  picturesque  events  of  the  na- 
tional welfare  which  touched  her  most  nearly, 
and  of  which  she  was  a  part.  It  is  impossible 
to  trace  her,  step  by  step,  through  her  eighty-six 
years;  she  can  only  be  regarded  by  the  flash- 
light of  isolated  topics. 

In  compiling  this  sketch  of  the  Revolutionary 
period,  I  am  especially  indebted  to  Window 
Warren,  Esq.,  and  Charles  Francis  Adams, 
Esq.,  for  their  generosity  and  courtesy  in  allow- 
ing me  the  use  of  the  valuable  manuscripts  in 
their  possession.  I  have  also  to  make  grateful 
acknowledgment  to  the  Collections  of  the  Massa- 
chusetts Historical  Society ;  the  Life  of  James 
Otis,  by  William  Tudor ;  the  Life  of  Thomas 
Hutchinson,  by  James  K.  Hosmer ;  a  History 

vii 


PREFACE 

of  American  Literature,  by  Moses  Coit  Tyler  • 
American  Literature,  by  C.  F.  Richardson;  the 
Governor's  Garden,  by  George  R.  R.  Rivers;  to 
all  Mrs.  Alice  Morse  Earless  delightful  pictures 
of  a  by-gone  day,  and  to  scores  of  books  so  vivid  or 
so  accurate  as  to  have  become  the  commonplace  of 
reference. 

A.  B. 

BOSTON,  October  3, 1896. 


viii 


CONTENTS 


I— IN  THE  BEGINNING 

Ancestry  of  Mercy  Otis  —  Old- World  Associations  of 
the  first  John  Otis  —  Dissension  in  Hingham  —  John 
Winthrop's  Trial  —  Life  on  Cape  Cod  —  Distinguished 
Members  of  the  Otis  family 


II-BARNSTABLE  DAYS 

Childhood  in  Colonial  Times —  Intimacy  bet  ween  James 
and  Mercy  Otis  —  James  Otis's  Tastes  and  Education  — 
Life  at  the  Barnstable  Farmhouse  —  A  Harvard  Com- 
mencement—  Professional  Life  and  Marriage  of  James 
Otis  —  Marriage  of  Mercy  Otis  to  James  Warren  .  .  15 


III— LIFE  AT  PLYMOUTH 

Ancestry  of  James  Warren  —  Early  Events  of  his  Life 
—  Development  of  Mercy  Warren's  Character  in  Rela- 
tion to  Events  —  Life  at  Clifford  —  Removal  to  Plym- 
outh Town  —  Birth  of  Children  —  Writs  of  Assistance 
—  James  Warren's  Advance  in  Political  Life  —  Attack 
upon  James  Otis  -  Birth  of  Mercy  Warren's  Two 
Youngest  Sons  —  Her  Friends  and  Intellectual  Life  — 
John  Adams's  Relation  to  the  Warren  Family— Friends 
and  Correspondents  of  Mrs.  Warren — The  Celebrated 
Mrs.  Macaulay — Committees  of  Correspondence — The 
Colonial  Clergy 33 


IV— THE  TESTIMONY  OF  LETTERS 

An  Academic  Style  —  James  Warren's  Letters  —  His 
Account  of  the  Battle  of  Bunker  Hill  —  Letter  "To 
a  Youth  just  Entered  Colledge "  —  Mrs.  Warren's 

"  Vapours " 67 

ix 


CONTENTS 


WOMAN'S  PART 

Feminine  Abstinence  from  Luxuries  — The  Squabble 
of  the  Sea  Nymphs— Satirical  Poem  — Hannah  Win- 
throp's  Letter  on  the  Battle  of  Lexington  —  Fear  of 
British  Troops— Mrs.  Warren's  Character-Drawing  — 
The  Small-Pox 


I— EARLY  AMERICAN  LITERATURE 

English   Source  of  American   Literature  —  Our  First 
Book-Makers  —  American  Colleges  and  Newspapers  . 


I— LITERARY  WORK 

Period  of  Mercy  Otis  Warren  —  Her  Undaunted  Ex- 
pression in  Political  Matters  —  John  Adams's  Flattery 
—  His  Defence  of  Satire  —  The  Group  —  The  Adulator 
and  The  Retreat  —  Poems  —  Mrs.  Warren's  Place 
among  the  Pamphleteers 


^HI—THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  RESOLU- 
TION 

Letters  from  James  Freeman  —  A  Collection  of  Mottoes 
—  Mrs.  Warren's  Portraiture  of  Public  Men  —  Distrust 
of  the  Order  of  the  Cincinnati 


IX— AN  HISTORIC  DIFFERENCE 

John  Adams's  Remonstrance  —  Mrs.  Warren's  Retort 
—  Talk  of  Monarchy  —  Comparison  of  the  History 
with  its  Manuscript  —  Reconciliation  —  An  Exchange 
of  Gifts ai 


X— THOUGHT  AND  OPINION 

Intolerance  of  Scepticism  —  Exchange  of  Literary  Criti- 
cisms with  Abigail  Adams  —  Attitude  toward  the  Woman 
Question  —  Criticism  of  Lord  Chesterfield  ...  -233 


CONTENTS 

XI— THE  BELOVED  SON 

Three  Copleys  — The  Dark  Day  — Winslow's  Sailing 
—  Purchase  of  the  Hutchinson  House  —  Winslow's 
Return  and  Second  Trip  Abroad  —  Death  of  Charles 
Warren  — Winslow's  Return  and  Death  — Death  of 
George  Warren 246 


XII— ON  MILTON  HILL 

The  Hutchinson  Estate  —  Governor  Hutchinson  — The 
Warren  Family  at  Milton  — Their  Return  to  Plymouth 
—  Present  Aspect  of  the  Hutchinson- Warren  Estate  .  264 

XIII— TERMINUS 

An  Aged  C.ouple  —  America  after  the   Revolution —  "I 
Mrs.   Warren's  Dread  of  an   American   Monarchy  — 

Death  of  James  Warren  —  Mercy  Warren's  Illness  and  .  | 

Death—  Her  personal  Belongings—  Her  Influence      .  289 


MERCY    WARREN 
I 

IX  THE  BEGINNING 

MERCY  OTIS  WARREN  belongs  to  that  vital 
period  when  there  came  between  the  two  Eng- 
lands,  New  and  Old,  the  breaking  of  ancient 
bonds,  the  untwining  of  fibres  grown  from  the 
hearts  of  each  ;  she  was  bora  at  a  day  when 
the  Colonies  were  outwardly  stanch  in  alle- 
giance, and  she  lived  through  the  first  irritation 
preluding  wrath  "  with  one  we  love,"  to  defec- 
tion, victory,  and  peace.  In  time,  in  feeling 
and  influence,  her  life  kept  pace,  step  for  step, 
with  the  growth  of  a  nation. 

Throughout  the  first  youth  of  our  Colonies, 
New  England  was  still  the  willing  daughter  of 
her  motherland.  To  every  pilgrim  settled  here, 
and  even  to  his  children,  born  in  a  species  of 
exile,  it  was  "home;"  and  few  were  they  who 
quite  relinquished  hope  of  returning  thither, 
either  for  travel,  study,  or  the  renewal  of 
precious  associations.  Indeed,  spite  of  the  ful- 
i  i 


MERCY  WARREN 

filment  of  desire  in  having  reached  that  air  of 
freedom  for  which  they  so  long  had  fainted, 
our  forebears  honestly  felt  with  Cotton  Mather  : 
"  I  conclude  of  the  two  Englands  what  our 
Saviour  saith  of  the  two  wines :  '  No  man  hav- 
ing tasted  of  the  old,  presently  desireth  the 
new ;  for  he  saith,  tha  o!4  is  better.*  "  Thus 
identified  in  recent  life  and  ever-present  longing, 
there  is  some  special  savor  in  tracing  family 
descent  at  a  period  when  every  bud  was  near 
the  parent  stem ;  for,  in  the  beginning  of  our 
stock,  it  is  possible  to  catch  some  lustre  cast  by 
Old  World  culture  and  beauty,  the  while  you 
detect  the  hardening  of  sinews  responsive  to 
the  stimulus  of  Old  World  wrongs. 

The  ancestry  of  Mercy  Otis  took  rise  in 
that  hardy  yeomanry  which  has  ever  been  the 
bulwark  and  strength  of  England.  John  Otis. 
founder  of  the  American  branch  to  which  she 
belongs,  is  usually  believed  to  have  been  born 
in  Baj^s^aple^Devon,  whence  he.^-aame  to 
Jlingham.  of  the  Massachusetts,  in,JL635^  and 
there  drew  lots  in  the  first  division~bf  land.. 
This  incident  of  the  allotment  of  land  is  virtu- 
ally the  first  mention  of  him ;  and  because  it 
took  place  in  the  company  of  the  Rev.  Peter 
Hobart  and  his  twenty-nine  associates,  it 
has  been  conjectured  that,  like  alt  the  band, 
Otis  came  from  Hingham  in  Norfolk.  It  may 


IN  THE  BEGINNING 

be,  however,  that  he  left  Devon  and  lived  for  a 
time  at  Hingham  before  embarking  for  America. 
Or,  if  the  genealogical  ferret  would  run  down 
a  further  quibble,  he  may  scent  it  in  a  note 
among  the  Hingham  records,  of  land  granted 
John  Otis  in  June ;  and  whereas  Hobart  only 
arrived  at  Charlestown  in  June,  and  did  not 
proceed  to  Hingham  until  September,  John 
Otis  was  very  evidently  there  before  him. 

The  name,  as  it  crops  out  in  old  records  both 
here  and  in  England,  is  variously  spelled  as 
Ottis,  Otys,  Ote,  Otye,  and  Oatey ;  but  happily 
it  is  not  to  be  identified  with  the  one-syllabled 
Otes  relegated  to  Titus  of  unholy  memory. 
Thus  varied,  it  appears  significantly  in  the 
Subsidy  Rolls,  —  a  quantity  of  most  precious 
manuscript,  preserved  at  the  Rolls  Office  in 
London,  and  brought  thither  from  the  Tower, 
where  it  lay  for  more  than  two  hundred  years, 
rich  in  truthful  records  which  are  now  invalu- 
able. Therein  are  set  down  the  names  and 
residences  of  most  English  people  from  the  time 
of  Henry  VIII.  to  that  of  Charles  II., — a 
means  whereby  the  genealogist  may  occasion- 
ally put  his  finger  on  the  still-beating  pulses  of 
the  past.  It  is  a  trivial  fact  that  among  the 
Somerset  families  appears,  under  several  forms, 
the  name  Otis  ;  yet  when  snapped  into  another 
isolated  record,  it  completes  an  unbroken  chain 


MERCY  WARREN 

of  inference.  For  there  was  one  Richard  Otis 
of  Glastonbury,  who,  in  1611,  gave,  according 
to  the  terms  of  his  will,  all  his  wearing  apparel 
to  his  sons  Stephen  and  John.  Now,  was  this 
the  John  who  afterwards  made  his  temporary 
stay  in  Devon  or  Norfolk,  and  then  found  his 
last  home  in  America  ? 

Apparently  it  was ;  and  here  is  the  pretty  rea- 
son for  such  guesswork.  On  the  fourth  of  June, 
1636,  there  were  granted  to  our  John  Otis  of 
Hingham,  in  the  Massachusetts,  sixteen  acres 
of  land,  and  also  ten  acres  for  planting  ground 
on  Wear i- All- Hill.  That  name  alone  is  signi- 
ficant. Says  the  historian  of  Hingham,  rela- 
tive to  the  latter  grant :  "  It  is  very  steep  upon 
its  western  slope,  and  from  this  cause  known 
to  the  early  settlers,  in  their  quaintly  expres- 
sive nomenclature,  as  Weary-All-Hill."  But 
the  reason  is  possibly  further  to  seek  than  in 
the  spontaneous  fancy  of  the  town  fathers  ;  for 
it  goes  back  to  England  and  to  Glastonbury 
town.  Every  pilgrim  to  Glaston  knows  the 
step  ascent,  lined  now  with  houses  built  of  the 
severe  gray  stone  so  common  there  (much  of  it 
filched  from  the  ruined  Abbey),  at  the  top  of 
which  is  a  grassy  enclosure,  and  a  little  slab 
to  mark  the  spot  where  Joseph  of  Arimathea 
rested  when,  with  his  disciples,  he  stayed  his 
wanderings  in  Glastonbury  and  built  there  a 


J^V  THE  BEGINNING 

little  wattled  church,  the  mother  of  England's 
worship.  On  the  top  of  Weary-All-Hill  he 
struck  his  staff,  a  thorn-branch, into  the  earth; 
and  it  burst  into  bloom,  the  first  of  all  the 
famous  thorns  to  blossom  thereafter  at  Christ- 
mas time.  The  hill  was  and  is  a  beloved  and 
significant  feature  of  the  town,  and  without  a 
doubt  John  Otis  named  his  New  England  hill 
in  memory  of  it,  and  so  proved  himself  in  the 
doing  a  Glaston  man.  It  is  quite  true  that  a 
Devonian  might  have  been  perfectly  familiar 
with  Weary-All-Hill  in  "  Zuramerzett,"  or  that 
the  name  might  have  been  evolved  from  its 
significance  alone ;  but  I  like  best  to  think  it 
a  fragrant  reminiscence  of  home,  like  the  bit 
of  soil  an  exile  bears  jealously  from  the 
mother  sod. 

In  loyalty  to  the  romance  which  is  truer  than 
truth,  let  us  believe  that  John  Otis  sprang  from 
Glastonbury,  and  trace  in  his  temperament 
the  serious  cast  of  that  dignified,  and  rich  yet 
melancholy  landscape,  the  outward  frame  of  a 
spot  ever  to  be  reverenced  as  the  nursery  of 
ecclesiastical  power.  One  might  even  guess 
what  dreams  he  dreamed,  and  what  images 
haunted  him,  when  he  turned  the  mind's  vision 
backward  over  sea.  There  they  lie,  as  he  saw 
them,  the  fertile  fields  of  Somerset,  the  peaty 
meadows  cut  by  black  irrigating  ditches  ;  now, 

5 


MERCY   WARREN 

as  then,  Glastonbury  Tor  rises  like  a  beacon, 
Saint  Michael's  Tower  its  crown.  Yet  Glas- 
tonbury is  not  wholly  the  same.  One  vital 
change  has  befallen  it:  the  wounds  of  its  sacred 
spot  show  some  semblance  of  healing,  for  now 
the  jewelled  ruins  of  the  Abbey  are  touched 
with  rose  and  yellow  sedum,  and  the  mind, 
through  long  usage,  has  accustomed  herself  to 
the  evidences  of  spoil  and  loss.  But  when 
John  Otis  sailed  for  America,  it  was  less  than 
a  hundred  years  since  Henry  VIII.  had  set  his 
greedy  mark  upon  the  Abbey;  less  than  a 
century  only  since  Richard  Whiting,  last  Abbot 
of  Glastonbury,  had  mounted  the  Tor  to  die  in 
sight  of  his  desecrated  church  and  all  the  king- 
doms of  the  earth  for  which  he  would  not 
renounce  the  crown  of  his  integrity.  There 
are  periods  when  history  marches  swiftly  ;  and 
such  vivid  events  as  these  were  the  folk-tales 
heard  by  John  Otis  at  the  fireside  and  in  his 
twilight  walks. 

But  if,  before  his  flitting  to  America,  he  did 
remove  from  Glastonbury  to  Barnstaple,  in 
Devon,  the  change  in  mental  atmosphere  was 
distinct  and  bracing,  from  a  sacerdotal  to  a 
thriving  merchant  town,  where  minds  had  not 
yet  done  thrilling,  since  Elizabeth's  day,  with 
dreams  of  adventure  and  trade  with  the  "  golden 
South  Americas."  The  little  parish  church,  as 

6 


IN  THE  BEGINNING 

you  may  see  it  there,  on  any  present  pilgrim- 
age, is  full  of  significant  hints  of  the  manner 
of  men  who  built  it,  worshipped  under  its  roof, 
and  then  claimed  shelter  for  their  last  long 
rest.  The  walls  are  lined  with  mortuary  tab- 
lets, testimonial  to  the  good  burghers  who, 
having  done  famously  in  life,  gave  munificent 
alms  for  the  poor  to  come  after  them,  and 
doubtless  also  as  a  cake  to  Cerberus,  thus 
forwarding  the  safe  passage  of  their  own 
thrifty  souls.  There  were  men  of  mark  in 
Barnstaple ;  let  it  be  assumed  that  Otis  was 
of  them.  But  wherever  he  started  in  life,  he 
took  root  in  our  Hingham,  and  doubtless  did  his 
share  in  building  up  the  sturdy  independence 
so  characteristic  of  the  place.  For  this  Colony 
was  on  the  outskirts  both  of  Plymouth  and 
Massachusetts  Bay,  and  it  owned  not  too  en- 
tire an  allegiance  to  any  but  its  own  judgment, 
nor  brooked  interference. 

Hingham  was  a  hot-bed  of  individualism,  and 
it  can  never  be  mentioned  without  remembrance 
of  one  vivid  scene  connected  with  its  early 
days,  —  one  of  those  commonplaces  of  the  time 
destined  to  fructify  and  thus  endure.  In  1645, 
a  novel  case  came  before  the  General  Court  of 
Boston,  founded  primarily  on  dissension  in  the 
town  of  Hingham  over  the  choice  of  a  captain 
for  its  trainband.  Variance  spread,  hot  words 

7 


MERCY  WARREN 

abounded,  and  some  of  the  delinquents  were 
summoned  to  Boston  to  answer  for  their  indis- 
cretion before  the  General  Court.  Old  Peter 
Hobart  violently  espoused  their  cause,  as  against 
the  magistrates,  and  expostulated  so  boldly  with 
the  latter  that  they  grew  wroth,  and  replied 
that  if  he  were  not  a  minister  of  the  gospel 
he  should  be  committed.  Thereupon  the  war- 
fare continued  through  the  requirements  of 
the  magistrates  and  the  virtual  refusal  of  the 
Hinghamites  to  do  anything  whatsoever  which 
they  might  be  bid,  especially  to  appear  meekly 
for  trial ;  and  finally  the  latter  rose  with  bold- 
ness, and,  crying  that  their  liberties  had  been 
infringed  upon  by  the  General  Court,  singled 
out  John  Winthrop,  the  Deputy-Governor,  for 
prosecution. 

No  scene  more  picturesque  and  impressive 
belongs  to  this  stirring  time  than  that  of  John 
Winthrop,  stepping  down  from  his  official  sta- 
tion, and  sitting  uncovered,  in  dignified  acqui- 
escence, "  beneath  the  bar."  The  case  turned 
upon  the  question  of  the  power  of  the  magis- 
trates, and  the  possibility  of  their  endangering 
the  liberties  of  the  people  through  over-much 
arrogance.  The  Deputy-Governor  was  acquitted, 
but,  after  taking  his  place  again  upon  the  bench, 
"he  desired  leave  for  a  little  speech;"  and 
then  was  uttered  his  wonderful  exordium  upon 


IN  THE  BEGINNING 

liberty,  destined  to  live  in  the  minds  and  ears 
of  the  people  so  long  as  they  shall  love  just 
thought  and  noble  expression.  He  began  with 
these  fit  and  burning  words  :  — 

"  There  is  a  twofold  liberty,  natural  (I 
mean  as  our  nature  is  now  corrupt)  and  civil 
or  federal,"  and  after  defining  the  first,  went 
on  to  that  other  higher,  spiritual  liberty,  the 
"  civil  or  federal ;  it  may  also  be  termed  moral, 
in  reference  to  the  covenant  between  God  and 
man,  in  the  moral  law,  and  the  politic  cove- 
nants and  constitutions  among  men  themselves. 
This  liberty  is  the  proper  end  and  object  of 
authority,  and  cannot  subsist  without  it ;  and 
it  is  a  liberty  to  that  only  which  is  good,  just 
and  honest.  This  liberty  you  are  to  stand  for, 
with  the  hazard  (not  only  of  your  goods,  but) 
of  your  lives,  if  need  be." 

And  so  was  the  stiff-backed  Hingham  of 
the  time  responsible  for  an  enduring  piece  of 
thought,  a  noble  moral  precedent. 

In  those  days,  the  minister  was  the  man  of 
mark;  and  Peter  Hobart  proved  himself  doubly 
the  leader  of  feeling  in  this  exigency,  not  only 
from  his  position,  but  from  his  almost  aggres- 
sive individuality.  It  is  significant  to  read,  in 
another  instance,  the  verdict  of  the  time  upon 
him,  and  to  realize  how  strongly  he  must  have 
influenced  his  people  to  independence,  even 

9 


MERCY   WARREN 

though  it  led  to  revolt.  In  1647,  a  marriage 
was  to  be  celebrated  in  Boston,  and,  as  the 
bridegroom  was  a  member  of  "  Hobard's " 
church,  "  Hobard  "  was  invited  to  preach,  and 
indeed  went  to  Boston  for  that  purpose.  But 
the  magistrates  ordered  him  to  forbear,  saying 
plainly,  "  That  his  spirit  had  been  discovered 
to  be  adverse  to  our  ecclesiastical  and  civil 
government,  and  he  was  a  bold  man,  and  would 
speak  his  mind" 

From  the  concerted  action  of  the  time,  it 
is  possible  to  guess  the  individual;  from  the 
public  attitude  of  the  town  of  Hingham,  to 
imagine  what  spirit  animated  its  citizens.  JThis 
was  the, .jair... breathed, _bj; jojar_j[eomaa-jOtis  ; 
Jihe^social _  atmosphere  which  he  doubtless  did 
his  part  to  preserve  clarified,  bracing,  free. 
And  no  one  who  has  followed  the  line  of  his 
descendants  can  doubt  that  he  also  could 
"  speak  his  mind." 

From  John  Otis  was  descended,  in  the  fifth 
generation,  Mercy  Otis,  the  third  among  thir- 
teen children.  She  was  born  September  25, 
1728,  atHS^StaBfe^  Massachusetts,  whither 
John,  son  otthr~ftrst  John,  had  moved  in 
•^678,^  build  his  house  on  land  known  there- 
afte>-»S  Otis  Farm.  It  belonged  to  that  part 
of  the  town  called  Great  Marshes,  now  the 
West  Parish,  or  West  Barnstable.  When  it 
10 


/AT  THE  BEGINNING 

comes  to  guessing  out  life-history  from  exter- 
nal evidence,  every  spot  identified  with  fam- 
ily life  becomes  significant ;  for  nature,  even  in 
her  common  phases,  holds  deep  meaning,  which 
the  growing  soul  inevitably  absorbs.  Personal 
history  becomes,  to  a  vast  extent,  topographi- 
cal, provided  only  a  family  line  lias  grown  and 
thriven  in  one  spot.  Given  the  sensitive,  im- 
pressionable temperament,  and  it  is  possible 
to  say,  "  Show  me  the  landscape,  and  I  will 
show  you  the  man."  To  be  born  in  Barnstable 
means  to  be  born  on  Cape  Coflj^- potent  phrase 
to  those  who  know,  either  by  birthright  or 
hearsay,  that  strong  and  righteous  arm  of 
Massachusetts. 

Barnstable  has  no  thrilling  story ;  she  has  al- 
ways held  herself  in  self-respecting  quiet,  ready 
to  meet  public  questions,  or  content  to  be  of 
the  happy  nations  that  have  no  history,  save 
of  industry  and  thrift.  She  had  rich  resources, 
and  in  1639  they  attracted  the  Rev.  John 
Lothrop,  who  moved  thither  with  his  congre- 
gation. She  owned  her  land  honestly  by  just 
though  thrifty  bargain  with  the  Indians  (what 
though  it  be  recorded  that  thirty  acres  went  for 
"  two  brass  kettles,  one  bushel  of  Indian  corn," 
and  the  fence  to  enclose  the  tract  ?  When  we 
sell  for  a  song,  sometimes  the  song  outweighs 
the  purchase).  All  the  peculiar  beauties  des- 
11 


MERCY  WARREN 

tined  to  make  Cape  Cod  so  unique  and  lovable 
were  hers  :  the  scrubby  growth  of  pine  and  oak 
crowning  the  knolls,  fair  little  valleys,  great 
marshes  where  the  salt  grass  sprang,  sweet 
fresh-water  ponds  dotting  the  inland  tracts, 
and,  at  her  door,  the  sea,  challenger  to  fear 
and  purveyor  of  good,  —  insistent,  mighty,  in- 
ducing in  men  that  hardy  habit  and  longing 
which  belong  as  truly  to  Cape  Cod  as  to 
Devon.  "The  duck  does  not  take  to  water 
with  a  surer  instinct  than  the  Barnstable 
[County]  boy,"  says  a  local  historian.  "  He 
leaps  from  his  leading  strings  into  the  shrouds. 
It  is  but  a  bound  from  the  mother's  lap  to  the 
mast-head.  He  boxes  the  compass  in  his  in- 
fant soliloquies. 


bythe  time  heflies  a  kite."  __ 

OFMercy  Otis's  dozen  brothers  and  sisters, 
three  deserve  especial  remembrance.  One,  the 
eldest,  was  James  QtisT  the  patriot.  The  sec- 
ond,. Joseph^  held  various  important  positions 
during  Revolutionary  days,  and  gave  his  coun- 
try definite  and  picturesque  service  in  opposing 
the  attempt  of  the  English  to  destroy  a  priva- 
teer which  had  sought  refuge  in  Barnstable  har- 
bor. Samuel  Allyjie,  one  of  the  younger  sons, 
founded  a  memorable  house  ;  for  he  married 
Elizabeth,  daughter  of  the  Honorable  Harrison 
Gray,  and  their  son  was  Harrison  Gray  Otis. 


IN  THE  BEGINNING 

To  the  New  England  ear  comes  no  sweeter 
sound  than  the  hint  of  Mayflower  ancestry ; 
there  is,  moreover,  somewhat  of  a  supersti- 
tious savor  in  it,  and  the  historian  licks  his  lips 
at  the  possibility,  as  though  some  pious  salt 
had  touched  them.  Therefore  let  it  be  said 
with  reverence  that  the  moth  fir  of  Mercy  Otis 
belonged  to  that  sacred  strain.  She  was_JM[ary 
Allyne,  great-granddaughter  of  Edward  Dotcn, 
or  Dotej,  who  came  over  in  162£L;  and,  being 
fortunate  in  topographical  conditions,  she  was 
doubly  well-born,  —  for  she  entered  this  earthly 
stage  in  the  old  Allyne  house  at  Plymouth. 
No  wonder  she  is  designated  "  a  woman  of  su- 
perior character."  When  it  comes  to  the  May- 
flower with  Plymouth  in  conjunction,  noblesse 


The  name  Mercy  (or  Marcia,  as  Mercy  Otis 
sometimes  spelled  it)  was  a  favorite  one  in  the 
family.  It  keeps  cropping  out,  from  generation 
to  generation,  like  some  small  plant  that  runs 
and  flowers  on  the  wall.  The  line  begins  with 
Mercy  Bacon  of  Barnstable,  the  wife  of  John 
Otis,  grandson  of  the  first  John.  This  Mercy 
had  a  daughter  named  for  her,  and  her  hus- 
band's two  brothers  had  each  a  daughter  Mercy; 
and  so  did  two  of  the  next  generation.  Indeed, 
one  of  those  sons  had  two  Mercys,  one  little 
girl  having  died  a  baby.  Quite  evidently  the 

13 


MERCY  WARREN 

name  was  a  source  of  love,  as  it  afterwards  be- 
came of  pride  to  the  succeeding  generations, 
when  they  could  look  back  on  the  woman  who 
virtually  made  it  her  own,  through  significance 
of  life  and  thought. 


n 

BARNSTABLE  DAYS 

FIRST  of  all,  one  would  fain  know  something 
about  the  little  Mercy  Otis,  instead  of  recon- 
structing a  shadowy  image  from  the  outer  cir- 
cumstances of  other  childhood  at  that  time.  We 
want  the  magic  mirror  wherein  events  grow 
clear.  There  are  those  who  had  it.  Such,  ac- 
cording to  Hawthorne,  was  old  Esther  Dudley 
of  the  Province  House,  the  weird  woman  who 
habited  there  in  the  interregnum  after  Howe 
left  and  before  Hancock  came  in.  Who  would 
not  bargain  for  her  uncanny  power !  — 

"It  was  the  general  belief  that  Esther  could 
cause  the  governors  of  the  overthrown  dynasty, 
—  with  the  beautiful  ladies  who  had  once  adorned 
their  festivals,  the  Indian  chiefs  who  had  come  up 
to  the  Province  House  to  hold  counsel  or  swear 
allegiance,  the  grim  Provincial  warriors,  the  severe 
clergymen,  —  in  short,  all  the  pageantry  of  gone 
days,  all  the  pictures  that  ever  swept  across  the 
broad  plate  of  glass  in  former  times, —  she  could 
cause  the  whole  to  reappear,  and  people  the  inner 
world  of  the  mirror  with  shadows  of  old  life." 


MERCY  WARREN 

Such  a  mirror  do  I  want,  and  such  an  enchant- 
ress, to  summon  up  the  figure  of  one  modest 
Colonial  maiden ;  and  such  a  mirror  have  we  not. 

The  first  daughter  of  the  family,  little 
Afgrcy__  had  that  trying  position  of  over-much 
affection  at  the  start,  and  later,  the  responsi- 
bility of  action  and  example  when  the  house 
became  crowded  with  young  life.  It  is 
easy  to  imagine  her  trotting  about  with  her 
ugly  home-made  doll  (or  hoarding  worship- 
fully  one  of  the  toys  so  sparingly  sold  in 
Boston,  at  that  early  date,  thence  to  reach 
the  country  towns  on  some  market  joiir- 
ney),  a  quaint  little  figure  like  all  the  child- 
figures  of  the  time,  with  Jong  skirt^jmd  a  close 
capto  protect  her  head  from  the  searching 
Cape  winds  fighting  their  way  through  the 
draughty  house.  For  even  in  such  well-to-do 
"  habitations  "  (as  the  grown-up  Mercy  deco- 
rously called  her  home) ,  the  entries  were  speak- 
ing-tubes for  all  the  winds  of  heaven,  and 
Arctic  terrors  beset  the  "  long  black  passage 
up  to  bed."  (Fortunate  indeed  was  the  child 
who  could  betake  herself  nightly  to  the  trundle- 
bed  in  mother's  room,  close  neighbored  by  the 
kitchen  and  some  flickering  warmth  before  the 
embers  were  covered,  though  the  apartment 
itself  were  that  horror  of  early  American  life, 
a  dark  bedroom.) 

16 


BARNSTABLE  DAYS 

Undoubtedly  she  went  through  all  the  con- 
ventional miseries  dealt  out  by  an  inscrutable 
Providence  to  the  babies  of  that  and  an  earlier 
time.  She  was  probably  put  into  fine  linen 
slips,  and  her  mottled  arms  were  bare.  For 
hardships  which  no  grown  man  would  feel 
called  on  to  endure,  save  for  conscience's  sake, 
were  then  made  the  portion  of  the  young  of 
our  New  England  race,  —  possibly  in  some  in- 
nocent obedience  to  the  law  which  brings  about 
the  survival  of  the  strong.  Luckily  it  was  un- 
necessary for  our  little  maid  to  endure  the 
extreme  rigor  of  the  ceremony  of  baptism ; 
for  being  born  before  the  dead  of  winter,  it 
was  probable  that  the  water  was  not  ice-cold, 
thus  to  contribute  to  her  undoing.  But  it  is 
only  fair  to  assume  that  she  became  a  victim  of 
other  intolerable  hardships.  She  was  of  a  deli- 
cate organization,  and  if  she  fell  ill,  she  must 
have  been  drenched  with  black  draughts  of 
simples,  bled,  and  bolused  back  to  health.  She 
was  not  "  innoculated,"  though  that  was  one 
of  the  new  lights  of  her  childhood ;  in  her  case 
it  was  to  come  later.  Certain  things  we  do 
know  about  her ;  that  she  had  her  task  Jind^ 
her  s_eamt  and  that  there  was  time  in  summer 
for  sweet  outdoor  delights.  She  must  have 
picked  cranberries^  not  as  a  little  Cape  girl 
would  do  it  nowadays,  from  cultivated  marshes 

2  17 


MEJ$CY  WARREN 

and  for  a  price,  but  the  sharp  wild  fruit,  owing 
nothing  to  the  care  of  man,  but  born  of  the 
benison  of  sun  and  air,  and  relegated  to  a 
child's  playhouse  rather  than  kitchen  use.  She 
gathered  barberries  for  candles,  and  healing 
salvg*  and  came  in  odorous  of  their  powdered 
sweetness,  better  than  "  Myrrhs,  Aloes,  & 
Cafsias  smell,"  like  a  spice-laden  ship  from 
the  farther  East.  In  winter,  too,  she  could 
shut  her  eyes  as  she  sat  by  the  dying  candle, 
and  see  as  in  a  vision  conjured  up  through  its 
breath,  the  pasture  where  that  fragrance  had 
birth,  the  darling  knoll  and  hollow,  and  so  raise 
up  the  image  of  her  summer  days. 

Strange  pabulum  she  may  well  have  found 
in  print !  Even  at  so  late  a  period  of  Colonial 
history  the  child  of  any  household  where  books 
had  entrance,  knew  things  whereof  even  the 
learned  of  the  present  generation  are  happily 
ignorant.  I  have  no  doubt  that  little  Mercy, 
omnivorous  reader  from  the  fi  rst,  had  shudder- 
ingly  perused  the  JQay_^_I)oomj  and  could 
rehearse  the  fate  of  "Jdglaters," "Blasjjhenr 
ers,"  "  Sw_earers_  s^rejy^^jtlie_ 
Ravenous,"  and 

"  children  flagiti-ous 
And  Parents  who  did  them  undo 
by  nurture  vici-ous." 

18 


BARNSTABLE  DAYS 

Perhaps  she  even  skimmed  Cotton's  Spiritual 
Milk  for  Babes,  and,  from  the  Bay  Psalm  Book, 

could  voice  her  lamentations  :  • — • 

"  My  heart  is  fmote,  &  dryde  like  graffe, 
that  I  to  eate  my  bread  forget : 
By  reafon  of  my  groanisgs  voyce 
my  bones  unto  my  fkin  are  set. 

Like  Pelican  in  wildernes, 
like  Owle  in  defart  so  am  I : 
I  watch,  &  like  a  fparrow  am 
on  houfe  top  folitarily." 

All  through  her  childhood  and  youth  runs 
the  lovely  suggestion  of  duality  and  comrade- 
ship ;  for  she  was  the  chosen  companion  of  her 
brother  James.  The  intimate  spiritual  relation 
between  them  through  their  later  years  makes 
it  possible  to  assume  this  double  kinship  of 
their  early  life.  When,  a  man  of  middle  age, 
the  crowning  calamity  of  mental  derangement 
came  upon  him,  it  was  Mercy's  voice  which  had 
power  to  soothe  him  and  lull  him  to  self-con- 
trol ;  and  in  1766,  when  his  patriotic  mission 
had  just  begun,  he  wrote  her :  "  This  you  may 
depend  on,  no  man  ever  loved  a  sister  better, 
&  among  all  my  conflicts  I  never  forget  yt  I 
am  endeavoring  to  serve  you  and  yours." 

Such  nearness  was  not  only  the  kinship  of 
blood ;  it  was  an  intimacy  of  soul.  To  me  their 
early  days  on  the  Cape  suggest  another  lad 
and  lassie,  —  Maggie  Tulliver  and  Tom.  As 

19 


MERCY   WARREN 

Maggie  trotted  about  after  Tom,  adoring,  wor- 
shipful, glad  of  a  glance,  so  the  little  Cape 
girl  followed  and  imitated  her  big  brother. 
They  were  more  or  less  alike  in  temperament, 
—  ardent,  mobile,  brilliant,  though  the  girl 
must  have  had  a  stronger  balance-wheel  to 
fit  her  for  the  ills  of  life.  The  intellectual 
air  of  the ^f armhoujse^jqust  have""  been  keen 
and  wholesome.  'Think  what  events  were  to 
be  talked  over,  and  in  what  vivid  guise !  In 
those  days  when  news  travelled  by  hot  word 
of  mouth,  and  an  overflowing  though  infre- 
quent post,  every  hint  from  the  outer  world 
became  strangely  dramatic,  and  even  the  chil- 
dren must  have  gained  such  an  idea  of  the 
wonder  of  life  as  is  scarcely  conceivable  now. 
Think  how  fast  the  New  England  drama  had 
swept  on  from  the  bleak  curtain-raising  on 
Plymouth  shore  !  Reminiscence  had  only  to 
stretch  forth  a  finger  into  the  immediate  past 
to  bring  it  back  covered  with  honey  or  gall : 
but  nothing  neutral.  There  were  strange  do- 
ings in  the  Massachusetts  to  be  talked  over  by 
night  when  the  fire  leaped  high  and  the  cider- 
mug  hissed  by  the  coals :  Merry  Mount  and 
he  unhallowed  revellers  who  dared  reinstate 
ay  Day  in  godly  New  England ;  John  Endi- 
cott,  the  apostle  of  intolerance,  doing  his  pic- 
turesque deed  of  jcutiang  the  red  crossfrom 
20 


BARNSTABLE  DAYS 

the  banner^ofJEio^land,  lest  a  savor  of  Popery 
contaimmite ithe  air,  and  Anne  HutchinsQu. 
brought  up  before  the  bar  of  public  injustice. 

The  witchcraft  delusion  was  not  so  far 
agone,  and  even  a  family  of  such  breadth  of 
thought  and  enlightenment  must  have  been 
touched,  in  some  fashion,  by  a  vestige  of  that 
horror  which,  like  a  lifting  mist,  still  lay  along 
the  land.  Children  knew  strange  lore,  and 
talked  it  over  in  secret ;  or,  not  daring  to 
speak,  even  to  each  other,  hugged  it  to  their 
own  little  breasts.  They  knew  perfectly  well 
how  _witches  charm  the  butter  and  keep  the 
cream  from  rising.  They  could  guess  the  hid- 
den cause  when  horses  fell  lame,  and  cows 
pined  in  pasture ;  they  knew  how  maidens 
wasted  while  a  waxen  image  burned.  They 
recognized  in  a  black  cloud  of  the  early  even- 
ing some  adventurous  madam  sailing  over  the 
town  on  her  faithful  broomstick.  When  they 
sat  on  their  little  stools  close  within  the  yawn- 
ing fireplace,  they  traced  weird  figures  in  the 
embers,  and  they  knew  what  used  to  happen  in 
Salem  town  when  naughty  children  swore  them- 
selves bewitched,  and  snatched  away  inno- 
cent lives.  One  little  girl  of  a  somewhat  later 
period,  in  Duxbury,  used  to  sit  dreaming  over 
the  coals  in  the  beloved  company  of  the  iron 
fire-dogs,  in  shape  two  Hessian  soldiers ;  and 
21 


MERCY  WARREN 

when  no  one  was  looking,  she  slyly  wiped 
their  little  noses  on  her  pinafore,  to  make 
them  feel  alive  and  cared  for,  and  told  them 
all  the  secrets  intrusted  to  no  one  else. 
Mercy  Otis,  too,  may  have  had  such  com- 
panions to  share  her  heart-secrets,  and  wher- 
ever they  are,  possibly  they  waken  at  night- 
time, like  the  puppets  of  German  fairy-lore, 
and  tell  the  tale  we  wait  to  hear.  There 
were  fresh  legends  of  Indian  life  and  present 
Jean  of^  |n <] \ fl n  nnfll^ n gVi t.  to  be  conjured  up  by 
the  childish  mind.  The  present  might  abide 
in  tranquillity,  but  who  that  had  heard  of  scalps 
and  ambush  would  not  tremble,  and,  liko_John__ 
Fiske,  in  his  precocious  boyhood,  fail  to  be 
comforted  by  grown-up  reassurance  ?  For  that 
youthful  sage,  living  peaceably  in  his  New 
England  home,  one  luckless  day  read  of  the 
massacre  at  jSckejoe_fitady-,  and  thenceforward 
shivered  at  night  over  the  logical  prospect  of 
its  repetition.  No  one  could  comfort  him ;  the 
assertion  that  all  the  hostile  Indians  were 
hundreds  of  miles  away  bore  no  fruit  for  his 
inflamed  imagination.  Did  they  assure  him 
of  his  own  safety  ?  He  shook  his  wise  little 
head,  in  a  conviction  stronger  than  fact.  "  Ah," 
said  he,  mourning  over  the  futility  of  ready- 
made  platitudes,  "  that 's  what  they  thought  at 
SchenectadtfJ  " 


BARNSTABLE  DAYS 

Mercy  Otis  learned,  like  all  proper  maidens, 
the  arts  that  go  to  the  making  of  good  house- 
wives ;  yet  I  cannot  believe  that  they  wholly 
appealed  to  her.  She  was  one  of  the  children 
whose  vision  is  inevitably  set  toward  "  the  vista 
of  the  Book."  She  was  created  for  the  intel- 
lectual life,  and  in  that  day,  when  the  feminine 
intelligence  could  demand  no  special  training, 
she  must  have  taken  refuge  the  more  in  the 
vicarious  joy  of  her  brother's  possibilities.  Not 
only  through  her  childhood,  but  until  her  mar- 
riage, it  is  possible  to  read  her  mental  phases 
chiefly  through  reference  to  him,  —  a  soul  so 
vivid  that  it  might  easily  illuminate  another 
more  confined.  This  was  an  age  when  needle- 
work and  housewifery  were  all  that  could  be 
expected  of  a  woman ;  if  she  also  sang  a  little, 
painted  a  little,  and  played  tinkling  tunes  on 
the  harpsichord,  so  much  the  more  elegant  was 
her  status  ;  and  Mercy  Otis  was  thus  doubly 
fortunate  in  sharing,  though  at  second-hand,  in 
her  brother's  intellectual  pursuits.  He  was  a 
close  student,  and  thj^Jiejc^Jtonatlian-  Russell, 
who  prepared  him  for  college,  was  Mercy's 
tutor  also,  and  the  director  of  her  reading.  He 
loaned  her  Raleigh's  History  of  the  World,  and 
encouraged  her  in  the  study  of  histoj-y  in  gen- 
eral, for  which  she  had  a  passion.  Years  after, 
in  a  satirical  letter  of  advice  to  a  young  lady, 

23 


MERCY   WARREN 

she  begs  her,  with  mock  seriousness,  to  have 
nothing  to  do  with  any  save  frivolous  and 
sceptical  topics,  since  they  are  the  only  ones 
likely  to  pass  current  in  the  drawing-room ; 
and  adds,  with  a  special  stress  gained  from  the 
devotion  of  a  lifetime :  — 

"  If  you  have  a  Taste  for  the  Study  of  History 
let  me  Urge  you  not  to  Indulge  it,  least  the  Pic- 
ture of  human  Nature  in  All  Ages  of  the  World 
should  give  Your  Features  too  serious  a  Cast  or 
by  becoming  acquainted  with  the  rude  State  of 
Nature  in  the  Earlier  Ages,  — the  Origin  of  So- 
ciety, the  Foundations  of  Government  &  the  Rise 
&  Fall  of  Empires,  you  should  Inadvertently  glide 
into  that  unpardonable  Absurdity  &  sometimes 
Venture  to  speak  when  Politicks  happen  to  be  the 
Subject.  —  In  short,  Science  of  any  Kind  beyond 
the  Toilet,  the  Tea,  or  the  Card  Table,  is  as  Un- 
necessary to  a  Lady's  figuring  in  the  Drawing 
Room  as  Virtue  unsully'd  by  Caprice  is  to  the 
Character  of  the  finish'd  Gentleman.  —  She  may 
be  the  admiration  of  the  Ton  without  the  One  & 
He  the  Idol  of  popular  Fame  without  the  Other." 

There  spoke  the  woman  devoted  not  only  to 
history  but  to  "  politicks,"  and  whose  later  life 
but  copied  fair  her  past. 

Unfortunately,  very  little  material  is  extant 
relative  to  James  Otis's  youth ;  he,  as  the  boy, 
might  easily  have  had  a  Boswell  where  a  girl 


BARNS  TABLE  DAYS 

would  have  passed  on  in  an  unrecognized  ob- 
scurity. Like  his  life,  his  history  is  incomplete, 
illuminated  here  and  there  by  flashes  of  insight, 
but  never  harmonious  and  consecutive.  We 
know  him  to  have  been  brilliant,  erratic,  no  less 
a  genius  in  capacity  than  in  temperament.  A 
creature  of  mental  impulse,  he  nevertheless 
carried  the  ballast  of  reverence  for  exact  study. 
His  mind  was  of  the  vivid  touch-and-go  quality, 
but  lie  was  wise  enough  to  feed  it  on  the  solid, 
the  permanently  satisfying.  "  If  you  want  to 
read  poetry,"  he  wrote  from  the  experience  of 
his  later  years,  "  read  Shakespeare,  Milton, 
Dryden,  and  Pope,  and  throw  all  the  rest  in  the 
fire  ;  these  are  all  that  are  worth  reading." 

He  entered  college  in  1739  (a  wrench  for  the 
little  sister,  then  only  eleven,  left  at  home  to 
pore  over  her  Raleigh's  History),  and  though 
for  two  years  he  seems  to  have  been  rather 
beguiled  by  the  amusements  of  college  life,  he 
afterwards  settled  down  to  such  serious  appli- 
cation that  even  during  his  vacations  at  home, 
he  so  bound  himself  to  his  books  that  the  neigh- 
bors seldom  saw  him  out  of  doors.  Mercy  was 
entirely  his  equal,  so  far  as  the  ardor  of  intel- 
lectual life  was  concerned ;  and  here  again,  as 
in  her  first  childhood,  one  can  fancy  that  her 
attitude  toward  his  studies  was  that  of  dear 
Maggie  Tulliver  in  her  ambition  to  conquer 


MERCY   WARREN 

Euclid,  which  was  not  above  Tom's  capacity 
and  therefore  quite  within  her  own.  Do  we 
not  all  remember  that  heartsick  moment  when 
Maggie,  in  young  ambition,  asserted  her  men- 
tal equality,  and  Tom  appealed  to  the  tutor,  to 
know  whether  girls  also  were  intended  for  the 
higher  culture  ? 

I  "  They  've  a  great  deal  of  superficial  clever- 
ness," said  Mr.  Snelling,  "  but  they  could  n't 
go  far  into  anything."  Conventional  dictum, 
made  to  fit  Maggie  Tulliver  and  Mercy  Otis  as 
well !  And  one  was  as  likely  to  be  satisfied 
with  it  as  the  other. 

James  Otis  proved  an  excellent  model.  He 
was  a  classical  scholar,  and  he  saw  the  neces- 
sity of  forming  written  English  upon  those 
types  of  perennial  beauty  belonging  to  the 
greater  past ;  he  had,  too,  a  singularly  clear 
appreciation  of  the  value  of  a  general  culture  in 
his  own  chosen  profession  of  the  law.  In  his 
maturer  life,  he  writes  his  father  in  regard 
to  the  younger  son,  Samuel  Allyue,  who  was 
about  to  study  law,  that  extraneous  culture  is 
not  a  question  of  outward  ornament,  but  an 
absolute  necessity  to  a  man  who  would  shine  in 
his  profession.  "I  am  sure,"  he  says,  "the 
year  and  a  half  I  spent  in  the  same  way,  after 
leaving  the  academy,  was  as  well  spent  as  any 
part  of  my  life ;  and  I  shall  always  lament  that 


BARNSTABLE  DAYS 

I  did  not  take  a  year  or  two  further  for  more 
general  inquiries  in  the  arts  and  sciences  before 
I  sat  down  to  the  laborious  study  of  the  laws  of 
my  country."  Culture  is  indeed  not  so  much 
acquisition  as  an  attitude  of  mind,  and  he  had 
it  in  its  broadest  significance. 

The  life  of  the  Barnstable  farmhouse  at  the 
West  Marshes  was  prosperous  and  abundant,  in 
the  manner  of  the  time.  Thg.  father^  James 
Otis,  was  a  man  of  public  influence  and  distin- 
guished character,  who  owed  his  standing  to  a 
mind  of  native  ability  rather  than  to  any  ex- 
ceptional training.  How  greatly  the  intellec- 
tual atmosphere  of  the  household  was  bright- 
ened by  the  home-comings  of  the  brilliant  eldest 
son,  and  the  sharing  of  his  fresh  experiences, 
one  can  easily  guess.  His  course  at  Harvard 
was  at  a  period  marked  by  great  public  ex- 
citement, both  in  the  polity  and  the  religious 
feeling  of  the  college.  It  was  during  this  time 
that  Whitefield  had  stirred  up  Cambridge  to  a 
fervent  heat  by  an  arraignment  of  the  college 
for  its  neglect  of  religious  observances.  It 
shared  his  ban  with  other  universities ;  their 
"  light  had  become  darkness."  Some  of  the 
students,  during  his  visit,  were  "wonderfully 
wrought  upon  ; "  but  the  chief  effect  of  his 
diatribe  was  to  raise  in  New  England  a  wave  of 
theological  controversy  which  culminated  when 

27 


MERCY  WARREN 

Dr.  Wigglesworth,  then  Hollis  Professor  of  Di- 
vinity, published  a  full  and  elaborate  refuta- 
tion of  his  charges,  and  sufficiently  vindicated 
the  college  from  a  suspicion  of  irreligion.  All 
this  turmoil  of  other-worldly  logic  and  iron- 
bound  speculation  must  have  reached  the  Barn- 
stable  farmhouse  not  only  through  the  ordinary 
channels,  but  hot  from  the  mouth  of  so  impet- 
uous a  witness.  Mercy  Otis  was  sharing  her 
brother's  education  ;  she  was  learning  to  think. 
She  seldom  went  from  home,  but  one  of  the 
rare  occasions  was  to  attend  his  Commencement 
at  the  college.  This,  in  old  New  England  days, 
was  a  fete  indeed:  a  fete  so  important  as  to 
be  attended  by  giant  expenditure  and  sinful 
extravagance.  Indeed,  so  early  as  1722  in  its 
history,  an  act  was  passed  "  that  thenceforth 
no  preparation  nor  provision  of  either  Plumb 
Cake,  or  Roasted,  Boyled,  or  Baked  Meates  or 
Pyes  of  any  kind  shal  be  made  by  any  Com- 
mencer,"  and  that  no  "  such  have  any  distilled 
Lyquours  in  his  Chamber  or  any  composition 
therewith,"  under  penalty  of  twenty  shillings  or 
forfeiture  of  the  said  provisions.  Five  years 
later,  several  other  acts  were  passed  "  for  pre- 
venting the  Excesses,  Immoralities,  and  Dis- 
orders of  the  Commencements"  by  way  of 
enforcing  the  foregoing  act.  These,  with  a 
simplicity  of  conclusion  which  brings  a  smile, 


BARNSTABLE  DAYS 

declare  that  "  if  any  who  now  doe  or  hereafter 
shall  stand  for  their  degrees,  presume  to  doe 
anything  contrary  to  the  said  Act  or  goe  about 
to  evade  it  by  Plain  Cake,"  they  shall  forfeit 
the  honors  of  the  college. 

But  Commencement  was  still  a  great  day. 
Even  before  Otis's  time,  the  Governor  and  his 
bodyguard  rode  out  to  Cambridge  in  state, 
arriving  there  at  ten  or  eleven  o'clock  in  the 
morning.  A  procession  was  formed  of  the 
Corporation,  Overseers,  magistrates,  ministers, 
and  other  distinguished  guests,  and  marched  in 
stately  file  from  Harvard  Hall  to  the  old  Con- 
gregational Church.  There  were  orations,  and 
disputations  in  logic,  ethics,  and  natural  philos- 
ophy, and  later,  the  conferring  of  degrees ; 
after  which,  the  mighty  men  of  learning  and 
state  went  back  to  Harvard  Hall  for  dinner. 
But  the  ceremonies  were  not  concluded ;  for 
after  dinner  they  returned  to  the  church  for 
more  disputations  and  conferring  of  the  Mas- 
ters' degrees.  Then  the  students  escorted  the 
Governor,  Corporation,  and  Overseers,  still  in 
procession,  to  the  President's  house,  and  the 
day  was  over. 

I  cannot  help  thinking  that  when  Mercy 
Otis,  a  proper  maiden,  clad  in  New  England 
decorum,  adorned  with  the  graces  of  her  day, 
went  up  to  see  these  learned  gymnastics, 

29 


MERCY   WARREN 

she  was  conscious  of  a  homesick  yearning 
for  the  same  intellectual  game,  only  to  be 
partaken  of  vicariously.  From  the  very  first, 
she  longed  to  know,  to  do ;  and  I  fancy  there 
was  in  her  heart  a  properly  disguised  ache  over 
the  fact  that,  for  the  intellectual  woman,  the 
world  had  apparently  no  definite  place. 

After  this,  her  line  of  life  lay  only  briefly 
with  that  of  her  brother.  He  left  home  a 
little  later,  in  1745,  to  study  law  in  the  Bos- 
ton office  of  Jeremiah  Gridley ;  and  after  two 
years'  practice  at  _Ply mouth,  he  took  up  his 
residence  in  jBoston.  But  with  those  Plymouth 
years  she  had  a  pleasant  connection,  and  there 
lives  to  this  day  a  witness  to  testify  of  it.  Tra- 
dition says  that  Mercy  Otis  used  to  visit  her 
brother  there,  and  it  says  also  that  a  certain 
piece  of  her  handiwork,  the  embroidered  top  of 
a  card-table  (now  the  property  of  her  great- 
granddaughter  at  Plymouth),  was  done  about 
that  time.  And  I  like  to  think  she  drew 
the  faithful  stitches  to  the  accompaniment  of 
maiden  dreams,  as  she  sat  by  the  window  in 
the  quaint  little  town  and  looked  up,  quite  with- 
out intention,  to  receive  a  greeting  from  that 
very  personable  young  man,  James  Warren, 
riding  in  from  the  farm. 

In_JJ55»^J^«^s_Ojj^-jnaixied,  and  thence- 
forth he  and  the  "  little  sister  "  were  separated 

30 


BARNSTABLE  DAYS 

as  regards  the  life  of  personal  association, 
though  they  were  never  divided  in  feeling. 
For  her,  the  Barnstable  days  went  tranquilly 
on  until,  at  the  age  of  tvvenfcv^sixjjjie married 
James  Warren,  this  same  young  merchant  of 
Plymouth. 


31 


Ill 

LIFE  AT  PLYMOUTH 

IN  every  period  of  intense  moral  or  intellect- 
ual life,  there  are  scores  of  men  of  whom  not 
even  the  scholar  takes  cognizance.  The  mo- 
ment of  England's  great  dramatic  blossoming 
is,  to  the  million,  Shakespeare's  day  and  that 
only.  They  agree  to  recognize  him  alone,  as  if 
he  had  sprung,  in  isolated  magnificence,  from 
a  soil  nourishing  no  undergrowth  ;  they  leave 
untouched  by  a  glance  the  stems  that  flour- 
ished about  him  only  to  be  obscured.  So  must 
it  be  in  all  strenuous  times  of  whatever  com- 
plexion. The  one  is  selected  for  universal 
worship;  the  unrecognized  many  sleep.  Our 
pre-Revolutionary  period  bred  intellect  and 
spirit,  not  yet  knowing  what  should  be  its 
use.  Some  of  it  came  to  name  and  fame  ; 
other,  as  worthy,  has  to  be  sought  in  musty 
archives.  But  let  it  be  remembered  that,  as 
the  great  are  but  the  embodied  spirit  of  their 
age,  so  the  great  who  do  not  absolutely  "  ar- 
rive "  (according  to  that  many-headed  monster, 
the  crowd)  are  exponents  of  that  spirit  also. 

32 


LIFE  AT  PLYMOUTH 

James  Warren  of  Plymouth  was  one  of  the 
men  who,  in  actual  power  of  influence  among 
the  first  of  his  day,  is  yet  not  always  remem- 
bered with  them.  He  was  not  conspicuous: 
not  a  "  master  of  the  puppets,"  as  Hutchinson 
called  Samuel  Adams,  that  wily  mover  of  the 
pieces  in  the  game ;  not  a  man  of  worldly  mark 
like  Hancock,  thus  deputed  to  do  the  double 
duty  of  a  patriot  and  a  figurehead.  He  had 
not  the  brilliancy  of  Otis,  nor  the  shining  qual- 
ities of  certain  others  among  the  van,  but 
throughout  the  Revolution  he  was  one  of  those 
quiet,  steady,  irresistible  forces  which  bring 
the  end.  He  was  of  good  stock.  JThe  first 
American  Warren  of  this  branch  was  Rich- 
ard, wlib  came  over  in  the  Mayflower  and  set- 
tled in  Plymouth.  From  him  was  descended, 
in  the  fifth  generation,  James  Warren,  who  was 
born  in  the  farmjiouse_at  Plymouth,  November, 
1126,.  In  1745,  he  wasagradu'ate  of  Harvard 
College.  There  he  probably  had  the  acquain- 
tance of  James  Otis,  who  was  graduated  only 
two  years  earlier,  and  possibly  Otis  not  only 
made  the  Plymouth  household  a  stopping-place, 
on  his  way  home  to  Barnstable,but  often  young 
Warren  went  riding  down  to  the  farmhouse 
with  him,  to  meet  the  stately  damsel  who  after- 
wards became  his  wife.  After  that  marriage 
(which  took  place  in  November,  1754),  for  a 

3  33 


MERCY  WARREN 

long  period,  before  its  own  outspoken  Sturm 
und  Drang,  Mercy's  life  must  be  known 
through  the  medium  of  his.  The  records  of 
her  entire  youth  have  been  so  completely  lost, 
that  I  could  only  think,  as  I  sought  them 
vainly,  of  The  Minister's  Great  Opportunity, 
that  slyly  humorous  tale  of  the  funeral  sermon 
made  up,  in  despair  of  other  data,  from  the  pub- 
lic events  which  had  taken  place  during  the 
course  of  a  colorless  but  very  long  life.  Yet 
it  is  more  or  less  legitimate  to  regard  the 
Mercy  Warren  who  has  so  effectually  hidden 
her  youth,  through  the  medium  of  circum- 
stances ;  not  because  she  lived  so  feebly,  but 
because  she  lived  so  well.  For  that  very  rea- 
son it  is  possible  to  assume  that  she  felt  thus 
and  so,  since  this  or  that  wind  of  destiny  was 
blowing  upon  the  public.  She  was  a  creature 
so  alive  to  great  issues  which  to  the  common- 
place mind  are  not  great  until  they  have  passed 
into  history,  that  it  is  possible  to  guess  how 
they  affected  her  even  before  the  days  when 
we  know,  in  slight  measure,  how  she  affected 
them.  There  was  never  a  lack  of  stimulus 
from  without  to  excite  all  the  capacity  for 
thought  and  expression  which,  in  so  rich  a 
nature,  could  not  long  lie  dormant.  Before  ber 
prime,  came  our  turmoil  with  the  French,  and 
in  1759,  the  surrender  of  Quebec  and  the  death 

34 


LIFE  AT  PLYMOUTH 

of  Wolfe  ;  and  she  had  not  been  a  year  married 
and  settled  at  Plymouth  when  the  Acadians 
were  expelled  from  Nova  Scotia  ("  the  hard- 
est [case]  since  our  Saviour  was  upon  earth," 
and  just  as  poignant  for  not  having  yet  been 
celebrated  in  verse),  and  some  of  the  poor 
exiles  later  drifted  down  to  Plymouth,  pic- 
turesque remnants  of  a  shattered  community. 
In  the  spasmodic  growth  of  a  new  nation, 
there  was  such  matter  for  thought  as  to  super- 
sede the  necessity  for  technical  education. 

Mercy  Warren's  own  life  had  been  late  in 
developing.  To  be  married  at  twenty-six  was 
virtually  to  be  an  "  old  maid,"  just  passing  on 
into  that  limbo  of  patient  acquiescence  in  the 
joy  of  others.  There  had  not  yet  been  exactly 
the  right  combination  of  events  to  display  her 
powers  to  the  world.  Of  course  she  was  an 
irreproachable  housewife,  and  doubtless  she 
was  already  submitting  to  her  proud  husband 
the  poetical  effusions  over  which  she  seems 
always  to  have  had  a  very  genuine  shyness. 
Family  life  went  quietly  then  in  the  old  farm- 
house at  the  head  of  the  beach.  This  was 
known  as  "  Clifford,"  named,  as  one  or  another 
has  said,  though  by  what  authority  I  know 
not,  by  Mrs.  Warren  herself.  It  was  the  old_ 
n(^  was  inherited  b 


James  Warren  on  the  death  of  his  father,  in 


MERCY  WARREN 

1757.  That  farmhouse,  as  it  stands  to-day,  is 
not  so  different  from  its  older  estate,  and  from 
it  you  may  reconstruct  a  morsel  of  the  past.  A 
street-car  route  leads  thither  now,  some  three 
miles  out  from  Plymouth  (though  not  by  the 
old  road ;  that  lies  further  inland),  and  all 
along  the  way  are  manifold  beauties  not  un- 
like the  scenery  of  Cape  Cod.  There  are  the 
same  knolls  and  dimpling  hollows  ;  oak  woods 
fill  the  distance,  and  beside  the  modern  track 
lie  lowlands  rich  in  flag  and  purple  iris,  and 
bosky  thickets  of  bayberry  and  wild  rose.  The 
Clifford  farmhouse  is  within  the  turn  of  a 
road,  —  a  small,  gambrel-roofed  dwelling,  not 
so  much  changed  save  that  the  tiny  window- 
panes  have  been  removed  to  make  way  for 
modern  glass  in  more  commodious  squares. 
It  is  a  modest  house  with  but  one  room  on 
either  side  of  the  front  door ;  but  it  looks 
out  on  a  prospect  full  of  beauty.  An  aged 
linden  is  its  neighbor,  populous  with  bees,  and 
gray-green  willows  line  the  way  beyond.  From 
the  rough,  lichened  doorstone  you  may  look 
down  into  bright  green  marshes  where  the  Eel 
River  winds  and  glimmers,  or  on  and  up  into 
the  distance  where  the  tree-clad  hills  are  fair. 
There  were  pleasant  walks  on  that  estate,  then 
acre  upon  opulent  acre.  You  might  wander 
down  to  the  curving  beach,  and  look  over  to 


LIFE  AT  PLYMOUTH 

Clark's  Island  and  Saquish,  or  Manomet  Point 
away  to  your  right ;  or  you  might  thread  the 
woods,  by  some  green  bridle-path,  arid  approach 
the  Point  itself.  There  Mercy  Warren  began 
her  married  life,  and  there,  in  tranquil  visits, 
after  she  had  moved  into  Plymouth  town,  she 
didjj^rej^ammmt  of  literary  work. 

At  his  father's  death,  James  Warren  stepped 
into  his  place  as  high-sheriff,  appointed  by  his 
Majesty's  Governor  ;  and  so  truly  was  he  a  man 
of  weight  and  integrity,  and  so  well  did  he  fit 
the  office,  that  he  retained  it  to  the  breaking 
out  of  the  Revolution,  notwithstanding  his 
instant  and  undaunted  stand  against  Great 
Britain.  I  am  persuaded  that  a  very  pretty 
farmer  was  wasted  when  James  Warren  was 
forced  to  spend  his  life  in  serving  his  country. 
He  loved  growing  things,  and  chronicled  the 
state  of  the  crops  and  the  weather  with  an  un- 
failing interest  and  delight.  He  had  studied 
agriculture  as  a  science,  too,  according  to  the 
light  of  those  days ;  and  I  fancy  he  would  have 
been  well  content,  had  nothing  more  urgent 
demanded  his  attention,  to  settle  down  to  the 
absorbing  occupation  of  planting  a  seed  and 
watching  it  grow.  But  he  became  a  merchant 
of  Plymouth,  and  dealt  in  shipping  ventures, 
foreign  and  domestic.  Meanwhile,  he  had  re- 
moved into  Plymouth  town,  to  the  house  on 

37 

287923 


MERCY  WARREN 

the  corner  of  North  and  Main  Streets,  once 
occupied  by  Colonel  Winslow,  commander  of 
the  forces  sent  to  expel  the  unhappy  Acadians. 
The  house  "  is  living  yet,"  and  trade  has  crept 
into  it,  though  not  with  the  effect  of  any  vital 
change.  It  is  a  commodious  dwelling,  very 
picturesque  under  its  gambrel  roof  ;  and  there 
are  still  those  who  remember  it  unaltered 
within,  its  ancient  staircase  and  broad  win- 
dow-seats. To-day  it  is  the  near  neighbor  of 
other  dwellings,  but  then  it  must  have  had  the 
company  of  grass  and  trees.  This  was  to  be 
Mercy  Warren's  real  home,  where  she  lived  a 
life  broken  chiefly  by  Sittings  to  Clifford  and 
visits  to  her  husband  when  he  was  in  Water- 
town  and  Cambridge. 

James  Warren  marched  steadily  into  prom- 
inence of  act  and  position.  For  Mercy  Warren, 
too,  the  great  events  of  domestic  life  were 
treading  evenly  with  those  of  the  outer  world. 
On  October  18,  1757,  her  son^Jajncs  was  born, 
and  March  24,  1759,  her  darling  Wmslow^jthe 
child  of  her  heart.  His  name  came  into  the 
family  with  Penelope  Winslow,  who  married 
James  Warren's  father,  and  he  is  especially  to 
be  noted  throughout  his  mother's  life ;  for 
tender  as  she  was  in  all  domestic  relations,  for 
this  one  son  her  affection  seems  to  have  been 
a  yearning  passion. 


LIFE  AT  PLYMOUTH 

On  April  14, 1762,  was  born  her  sonjDharJ£a»- 
only  a  little  after  the  fire  had  sprung  up  in  the 
Colonies  and  begun  to  crackle  and  run,  fanned 
diligently  by  James  Otis.  For  events  were 
happening  at  this  time  which  proved  to  be  of 
extraordinary  import  to  the  Otis  family,  and  in 
which  Mrs.  Warren  must,  not  only  for  that 
reason,  but  from  their  public  bearing,  have 
taken  the  keenest  interest.  Now  at  the  moment 
when  amity  between  England  and  America 
should  have  been  strengthened  by  their  com- 
mon cause  against  the  French,  and  the  virtual 
termination  of  that  great  strain,  came  the  issu- 
ing of  Wj'its  of^Assistance^whereby  a  man's 
house  ceased  to  be  his  castle.  These  men  of 
the  Colonies  were  of  English  blood  ;  what  one 
of  them  would  tamely  tolerate  an  instrument 
to  be  granted  by  the  courts  empowering  the 
officers  of  the  customs  to  enter  a  man's  house 
at  will,  and  search  it  for  concealed  goods? 

Previously,  there  had  been  run  into  the  web 
of  events  a  little  thread  of  personal  history 
of  which  the  royalists  were  fain  to  make  much. 
In  1760,  Chief-Justice  Sewall  died,  and  Lieu- 
tenant-Governor  Hutchinson,  who  had  already 
been  given  an  overflowing  quota  of  public  offices, 
was  appointed  his  successor.  To  heap  a  further 
trust  upon  him  was  manifestly  unjust  to  other 
waiting  merit.  Moreover,  this  event  belongs,  at 

39 


MERCY  WARREN 

least  by  implication,  to  the  Otis  family  ;  for  it 
was  believed  that  Governor  Shirley  had,  in  his 
day,  virtually  promised  the  place,  when  it  should 
be  vacant,  to  James  Otis's  father,  and  that 
when  this  understanding  was  repudiated,  a 
sudden  opposition  to  the  royal  government 
sprang  up  in  the  son,  and  he  vowed,  in  revenge- 
ful indignation,  to  "  set  the  Province  in  flames, 
if  he  perished  by  the  fire."  To  subscribe  to  so 
basely  personal  a  motive  was  wantonly  to  tar- 
nish a  patriot's  fair  fame.  It  is  inevitable  that 
Otis,  with  other  thinking  men  of  the  Massachu- 
setts, must  have  looked  with  alarm  upon  Hutch- 
inson's  accumulation  of  office,  implying  as  it 
did  the  recompense  of  an  unquestioning  loy- 
alty ;  and  there  must  also  have  been  a  natural 
though  unjust  resentment,  with  the  suspicion 
that  Hutchinson  had  craftily  used  his  personal 
influence  to  steal  away  the  place.  Who  shall 
^ay  that  James  Otis's  subsequent  resistance  to 
tyranny  was  not  the  outcome  of  patriotism,  and 
patriotism  alone  ?  Only  those  who  would  tear 
up  lilies  and  plant  nettles  in  their  place.  But 
in  that  first  seed  of  distrust  sown  by  Hutchinson 
lay  perhaps  the  germ  of  the  scorn  which  Mercy 
Warren  (in  common  with  every  other  patriot) 
felt  for  him  to  the  end. 

Following  dramatically  on  the  heels  of  this 
personal  affront  came  the  battle  over  the  Writs  . 

40 


LIFE  AT  PLYMOUTH 

of  Assistance,  wherein  customs  and  Colonists 
strove  mightily.  _Jitis,  as  Advocate-General, 
was  called  on,  by  virtue  of  his  office,  to  argue 
the  cause  of  the  former.  He  refused^Jind  ro- 
signed  his  place ;  then,  despising  fees  in  such  a 
cause,  he  espoused  with  Thacher  the  side  of  the 
merchants  of  Boston.  Jeremiah  Gridley,  his 
old  master  in  the  law,  spoke  for  the  rights  of 
the  crown  ;  and  though  Otis  treated  him  with  a 
winning  and  filial  deference,  he  smote  his  argu- 
ments valiantly,  and  came  out  victorious^  The 
scene  was  lighted  by  the  dignified  Splendor  of 
the  time.  The  trial  took  place  in  the  Council 
Chamber  of  the  Old  Town  House,  where,  look- 
ing down  on  rebels  and  horrified  loyalists,  were 
the  full-length  portraits  of  Charles  II.  and 
James  II.  A  concourse  of  deeply  anxious 
citizens  filled  the  hall,  and  amon^  thg  fivp 
judges  who  presided  was  Hutchinson,  after- 
wards to  be  unmercifully  satirized  by  Mercy 
Warren,  to  the  everlasting  delight  of  the  patriots 
whose  hatred  he  won.  That  Council  Chamber 
of  the  Old  Town  House  had  already  become  a 
theatre  of  dramatic  action,  and  to  review  the 
events  of  the  Revolution  is  to  find  it  hung,  like 
a  rich  arras,  with  the  life  history  of  stirring 
times. 

"The  Council  Chamber  was  as  respectable  an 
apartment  as  the  House  of  Commons  or  the  House 
41 


MERCY  WARREN 

of  Lords  in  Great  Britain,  in  proportion ;  or  that  in 
the  State  House  in  Philadelphia,  in  which  the 
Declaration  of  Independence  was  signed  in  1776. 
In  this  chamber,  round  a  great  fire,  were  seated 
five  judges  with  Lieutenant-Governor  Hutchinson 
at  their  head  as  Chief-Justice,  all  arrayed  in  their 
new,  fresh,  rich  rohes  of  scarlet  English  broad- 
cloth; in  their  large  cambric  bands  and  immense 
judicial  wigs.  In  this  chamber  were  seated  at  a 
long  table  all  the  barristers-at-law  of  Boston  and 
of  the  neighboring  county  of  Middlesex,  in  gowns, 
bands,  and  tie  wigs.  They  were  not  seated  on 
ivory  chairs,  but  their  dress  was  more  solemn  and 
more  pompous  than  that  of  the  Eoman  Senate,  when 
the  Gauls  broke  in  upon  them.  Two  portraits,  at 
more  than  full  length,  of  King  Charles  the  Second 
and  of  King  James  the  Second,  in  splendid  gold 
frames,  were  hung  up  on  the  most  conspicuous  side 
of  the  apartment.  If  my  young  eyes  or  old  mem- 
ory have  not  deceived  me,  these  were  as  fine 
pictures  as  I  ever  saw;  the  colors  of  the  royal 
ermine  and  long,  flowing  robes  were  the  most 
glowing,  the  figures  the  most  noble  and  graceful, 
the  features  the  most  distinct  and  characteristic, 
far  superior  to  those  of  the  king  and  queen  of 
France  in  the  Senate  Chamber  of  Congress,  — 
these  were  worthy  of  the  pencils  of  Kubens  and 
Van  Dyke.  There  was  no  painter  in  England 
capable  of  them  at  that  time.  They  had  been  sent 
over  without  frames  in  Governor  Pownall's  time, 
but  he  was  no  admirer  of  Charles  or  James.  The 
42 


LIFE  AT  PLYMOUTH 

pictures  were  stowed  away  in  a  garret,  among 
rubbish,  until  Governor  Bernard  came,  who  had 
them  cleaned,  superbly  framed,  and  placed  in  coun- 
cil for  the  admiration  and  imitation  of  all  men, 
no  doubt  with  the  advice  and  concurrence  of 
Hutchinsoii  and  all  his  nebula  of  stars  and  satel- 
lites. One  circumstance  more.  Samuel  Quincy 
and  John  Adams  had  been  admitted  barristers  at 
that  term.  John  was  the  youngest;  he  should  be 
painted  looking  like  a  short,  thick  archbishop  of 
Canterbury,  seated  at  the  table  with  a  pen  in  his 
hand,  lost  in  admiration." 

So,  remembering  the  days  of  his  youth,  did 
John  Adanis  write,  in  his  old  age,  to  William 
Tudor. 

It  is  only  necessary  here  to  speak  of  Otis's 
share  in  the  argument;  for  that  was  the  illu- 
minated initial  point  of  the  Revolution.  In 
the  words  of  John  Adams  :  — 

"  Otis  was  a  flame  of  fire;  with  a  promptitude 
of  classical  allusions,  a  depth  of  research,  a  rapid 
summary  of  historical  events  and  dates,  a  profusion 
of  legal  authorities,  a  prophetic  glance  of  his  eyes 
into  futurity,  and  a  rapid  torrent  of  impetuous 
eloquence,  he  hurried  all  before  him.  American  ._ 
wa,s  then  and  t,bprfi  hr"n  " 


What  a  story  to  bear  back  to  the  fireside  at 
Plymouth,  and  how  Mercy  Warren  must  have 

43 


MERCY  WARREN 

chanted  in  her  heart  those  splendid  prophetic 
words  on  which  was  laid  the  foundation  of  the 
Revolution :  "  No  taxation  without  representa- 
tion ! "  James  Otis  had  revived  them,  and 
made  them  walk  in  living  power.  Thencefor- 
ward the  drama  ran  very  swiftly,  and  became, 
for  Mercy  Warren,  a  source  of  intimate  per- 
sonal history  :  for  in^  every  act  her .  husband 
boreja_4iart.  His  name  is  constantly  found 
appended  to  the  local  documents,  as  one  of 
almost  every  committee  of  public  safety.  At 
the  time  of  the  Stamp  Act,  he  was  chosen  a 
member  of  the  General  Court  from  Plymouth ; 
and  when,  after  the  repeal  of  that  act,  there 
came  a  revulsion  of  feeling  wherein  no  patriot 
could  be  blamed  for  retiring  to  lament  a  lost 
cause,  he  was  one  of  those  who,  with  Samuel 
Adams,  never  paused  to  doubt,  but  clung  to  the 
word  resistance^a^d.  led  the  people  on.  At  the 
death  of  Joseph  Warren,  he  was  made  Presi- 
dent of  the  Provincial  Congress,  and  while  the 
American  Army  was  at  Cambridge,  he  was 
Paymaster-General.  But  though,  merely  by 
course  of  events,  this  is  anticipating,  it  is  per- 
haps not  illegitimate,  for  with  James  Warren, 
what  he  was  officially  seemed  to  be  of  far  less 
importance  than  what  he  did  in  the  way  of 
direct,  personal  influence.  He  was  evex-nn  the 
side  of  revolt,  and  even  in  a  simple,  more  or  less 

44 


LIFE  AT  PLYMOUTH 

social  circumstance,  his  attitude  was  consistent. 
In  17«J9,_  the  Old ...  Colony  Club  was  formed  to 
celebrate  the  anniversary  of  the  Pilgrims'  land- 
ing, and  when  it  dissolved,  having  split  on  the 
rock  of  political  discussion,  James  Warren, 
who  had  joined  soon  after  its  organization,  was 
among  the  disaffected  who  believed  in  war,  and 
who  could  not  suppress  his  "  Everlasting  Yea." 
About  this  time  came  a  calamity  which  not 
only  involved  the  Colonies  in  loss,  but  especially 
touched  the  name  of  Otis.  In  1769,  James 
Otis  retired  from  active  political  life,  through 
one  of  the  incidents  so  consistent  with  his 
dramatic  career.  He  had  grown  every  day  more 
erratic,  more  unguarded  in  his  utterances ;  and 
finally  his  indignation  against  the  four  royal 
Commissioners  of  Customs  burst  unguardedly 
forth.  He  was  too  dangerous  a  man  not  to 
have  excited  their  animosity ;  and  they,  with 
Governor  Bernard,  had  not  only  insinuated 
treasonable  charges  against  him  in  public  re- 
ports, but  they  had  in  secret  letters  gone  to 
an  outer  limit  of  accusation.  Copies  of  these 
letters  were  procured  and  furnished  him,  and 
their  reading  filled  him  with  an  ungovernable 
and  righteous  indignation.  Conscious  of  his  own 
public  rectitude,  and  aware  of  being  estranged 
from  Great  Britain  only  so  far  as  a  higher  patri- 
otism demanded,  he  was  stung  to  the  soul  by 

45 


MERCY   WARREN 

the  implication  of  treason.  His  very  slight 
endowment  of  prudence  fled  away  on  the  wind, 
and  he  published  in  the  "  Boston  Gazette  "  a 
k-llur  as  offensive  as  it  was  furious,  mentioning 
his  four  traducers  by  name.  Next  evening,  John 
Robinson,  one  of  the  Commissioners,  was  at  the 
British  Coffee-IIouse  on  State  Street,  with  a 
number  of  officers  and  public  men,  when  Otis 
came  in.  Hot  words  were  followed  by  blows, 

I  the  lights  were  extinguished,  and  Otis,  assailed 
by  a  band  of  Robinson's  adherents,  was  seri- 
ously wounded  in  the  head. 
This  attack  completed  the  mental  alienation 
which  had  already  begun,  and  his  brilliant 
faculties  fell  into  speedy  and  irreparable  decay. 

tis  public  career  was  closed.  He  retired  into 
ic  country,  and  withdrew  almost  entirely  from 
the  practice  of  his  profession ;  and  although,  in 
1771,  he  served  as  Representative,  he  had  in 
reality  nothing  more  to  bestow  upon  his  country. 
There  were  traces  of  the  old  vigor  and  momen- 
tary flashes  of  wit  when  he  was  among  his 
intimate  friends ;  but  James  Otis  the  patriot 
was  dead  to  the  world.  It  was  a  costly  tribute 
which  the  Otis  family  had  paid  to  the  turmoil  of 
the  times.  A  fragmentary  letter  written  to  him 
by  Mrs.  Warren,  relative  to  the  assault,  is  of  in- 
terest only  in  the  general  tenor  of  dignity  and 
restraint  dominating  her  horror  at  the  outrage. 

46 


LIFE  AT  PLYMOUTH 

She  is  penetrated  to  the  soul  by  what  he  has' 
suffered,  but  she  begs  him  not  to  avenge  him- 
self, nor  to  be  drawn  into  that  last  resort  of 
honor,  the  duel.  Non-resistance  was  never  her 
standard ;  but  she  would  have  you  resist  as  if 
the  eyes  of  the  world  and  a  Greater  than  the 
world  were  upon  you. 

Before  this  time  of  grief  and  loss,  two  more 
sons  had  been  born  to  her,  —  Henry,  on  the 
twenty-first  of  March,  1764 ;  and  George,  on 
the  twentieth  of  September,  1766.  Her  family 
of  five  was  now  complete. 

There  was  good  talk  in  the  Plymouth  house- 
hold. Possibilities  were  discussed  there  which 
afterwards  grew  into  reality.  No  wonder  Mrs. 
Warren  wrote,  in  one  of  the  periods  of  her 
husband's  absence,  when  the  men  of  the  grow- 
ing nation  were  called  together  for  serious 
deliberation  :  "  I  am  very  well  only  Wish  for 
the  Company  of  my  Husband  &  a  Little  Com- 
pany of  the  Right  Stamp  sociable  Learned 
Virtuous  &  polite."  To  such  society  she  was 
well  used.  She  hints  at  the  debates  which  had 
preceded  the  great  discussions  afterwards  to 
take  place  under  the  eye  of  the  people,  when, 
on  July  14, 1774,  she  writes  John  Adams :  — 

"  Though  Mr.  Adams  has  Condescended  to  ask 
my  sentiments  in  Conjunction  with  those  of  a  per- 
son qualified  (by  his  integrity  &  attachment  to  the 

47 


MERCY  WARREN 

interest  of  his  Country)  to  advise  if  it  were  need- 
ful at  this  important  Crisis,  I  shall  not  be  so  pre- 
sumptuous as  to  offer  anything  but  my  fervent 
Wishes  that  the  Enemies  of  America  may  Here- 
after forever  tremble  at  the  Wisdom  the  firmness 
the  prudence  &  the  justice  of  the  Delegates  Deputed 
from  our  Cities,  as  much  as  ever  the  phocians  or 
any  other  petty  State  did  at  the  power  of  the 
Amphyctiones. 

"  but  if  you  sir  still  flatter  me  so  far  as  to  express 
another  Wish  to  know  further  my  oppinion,  I  would 
advise  that  a  preparatory  Conference  should  be  held 
at  the  North  west  Corner  of  Liberty  Sq  Plimouth 
on  any  day  you  shall  Name  preceding  the  12  of 
August,  but  whether  you  agree  to  this  project  or 
not  I  hope  to  see  my  friend  Mrs.  Adams  here  in  a 
short  time." 

From  the  very  first,  she  was  rich  in  "  troops 
of  friends,"  and  it  is  necessary  to  remember 
that,  in  order  to  see  how  vigorous  her  intel- 
lectual life  must  have  been,  how  wide-reaching 
in  influence,  both  in  what  it  gave  and  in  what  it 
took.  To  consider  the  dearth  of  special  educa- 
tion for  women,  and  the  isolation  of  the  times, 
is  to  deplore  for  our  great-grandmothers  the  ab- 
sence of  modern  advantages;  but  in  Mercy  War- 
ren's case  it  is  only  necessary  to  remember  that 
she  had  the  constant  stimulus  of  a  wonderful 
mental  companionship.  The  facilities  of  travel 
were  agonizingly  slow,  and  she  complains  more 

48 


LIFE  AT  PLYMOUTH 

than  once,  in  the  absence  of  her  husband,  of 
the  intellectual  leanness  of  Plymouth ;  but 
bulky  letters  were  always  on  their  way  to  her, 
full  of  a  golden  interchange  of  thought.  Her 
intimacy  with  Abigail  Adams  was  of  very  early 
date.  Indeed,  her  public  sympathies,  and  all 
the  larger  interests  of  her  life,  might  almost  be 
traced  through  reference  to  the  family  at  Brain- 
tree  alone  ;  for  she  and  her  husband,  and  John 
Adams  and  his  wife,  made  a  notable  partie 
carree  of  plainspoken  and  affectionate  alliance. 
John  Adams's  letters  to  General  Warren  are 
invaluable  as  to  the  insight  they  afford  in  regard 
to  the  true  character  of  both.  Especially  do 
they  show  how  constantly  Warren's  advice  was 
sought  on  all  the  topics  suggested  by  the  great 
questions  of  the  day.  Not  only  were  they  in 
official  rapport, — Adams  as  delegate  to  the  Gen- 
eral Congress  and  Warren  as  President  of  the 
Provincial  Congress,  —  but  Adams  is  always 
pouring  in  upon  his  friend  a  fiery  flood  of  interro- 
gation, —  forjiidyice,  for  definite  information  in 
regard  to  events  ancTthe  state  of  mind  in  Massa- 
chusetts,— one  impetuous  query  almost  tumbling 
over  another  in  its  haste  to  be  there.  In  1775, 
letters  follow  one  another  thick  and  fast.  "  What 
think  you  of  an  American  Fleet  ? "  he  asks. 
Would  it  protect  the  trade  of  New  England  ? 
Would  the  Southern  Colonies  feel  a  laxity  about 

4  49 


MERCY  WARREN 

undertaking  it,  since  their  own  trade  was  being 
carried  on  in  British  bottoms  ?  He  wants  to 
know  what  has  become  of  the  whalemen,  cod- 
fishers,  and  other  seamen  belonging  to  our 
Province,  and  "  what  number  of  them  you  ima- 
gine might  be  enlisted  into  the  service  of  the 
Continent." 

What  ships,  brigantines,  or  schooners  could 
be  hired  ?  What  places  are  most  suitable  for 
building  vessels  ?  What  shipwrights  are  to  be 
had,  what  men  for  commanders  and  officers  ? 
October  19, 1775,  he  writes :  — 

DB  SIR,  —  I  want  to  be  with  you  Tete  a  Tete  to 
canvass,  and  discuss  the  complicated  subject  of  Trade 
.  .  .  Shall  we  hush  the  Trade  of  the  whole  Continent 
and  not  permit  a  Vessell  to  go  out  of  our  Harbours 
except  from  one  Colony  to  another  ?  —  How  long  will 
or  can  our  People  bear  this?  I  say  they  can  bear 
it  forever — if  Parliament  should  build  a  Wall  of 
Brass,  at  low  Water  Mark,  We  might  live  and  be 
happy.  We  must  change  our  Habits,  our  preju- 
dices our  Palates,  our  Taste  in  Dress,  Furniture, 
Equipage  Architecture  &c  —  But  we  can  live  and 
be  happy  — But  the  Question  is  whether  our  people 
have  Virtue  enough  to  be  mere  husbandmen, 
Mechanicks  &  Soldiers  ? 

Oct  20,  1775. 

DEAR  SIR,  —  Can  tlie  Inhabitants  of  North  Amer- 
ica live  without  foreign  trade?  There  is  Beef  & 
Pork  and  Poultry,  and  Mutton  and  Venison  and 


LIFE  AT  PLYMOUTH 

Veal,  Milk,  Butter,  Cheese,  Corn,  Barley  Eye, 
Wheat,  in  short  every  Species  of  Eatables  animal 
and  Vegetable  in  a  vast  abundance,  an  immense 
profusion.  We  raise  about  Eleven  hundred  thou- 
sand Bushells  of  Corn,  yearly  more  than  We  can 
possibly  consume. 

The  Country  produces  Provisions  of  all  Kinds, 
enough  for  the  sustenance  of  the  Inhabitants,  and 
an  immense  surplusage  .  .  .  But  cloathing.  —  If 
instead  of  raising  Million  Bushells  of  Wheat  for 
Exportation,  and  Rice,  Tobacco,  naval  stores  Indigo, 
Flaxseed,  Horses  Cattle,  &c.  Fish,  Oyl,  Bone, 
Potash  &c,  &c,  &c,  the  Hands  now  employed  in 
raising  surplusages  of  these  articles  for  Exporta- 
tion, were  employed  in  raising  Flax  and  Wool,  and 
manufacturing  them  into  Cloathing,  we  should  be 
cloathed  comfortably. 

We  must  at  first  indeed  Sacrifice  some  of  our 
Appetites.  Coffee,  Wine,  Punch,  sugar,  Molasses, 
&c  and  our  Dress  would  not  be  so  elegant  —  Silks 
and  velvets  &  Lace  must  be  dispensed  with  —  But 
these  are  Trifles  in  a  Contest  for  Liberty. 

October  21, 1775,  he  writes  again  :  — 

DEAR  SIR,  — We  must  bend  our  Attention  to 
Saltpetre,  — We  must  make  it.  While  Britain  is 
Mistress  of  the  Sea  and  has  so  much  Influence  with 
foreign  Courts,  We  cannot  depend  upon  a  supply 
from  abroad. 

He  goes  on  with  an  enthusiastic  disquisition 
on  the  making  of  gunpowder.  The  process  is 


MERCY  WARREN 

very  simple  ;  it  has  been  made,  it  must  be  made 
again.     And  he  concludes  :  — 

"I  am  determined  never  to  have  Salt  Petre  out 
of  my  Mind  but  to  insert  some  stroke  or  other  about 
it  in  every  Letter  for  the  future,  it  must  be 
had." 

February  3, 1777,  comes  an  appeal  which  is 
almost  pathetic  in  its  solemnity  :  — 

"I  will  be  instant  &  incessant  in  Season  and  out 
of  Season  in  inculcating  these  important  Truths, 
that  nothing  can  Save  us  but  Government  in  the 
State  and  Discipline  in  the  Army.  There  are  so 
many  Persons  among  my  worthy  Constituents  who 
love  Liberty  better  than  they  understand  it  that  I 
expect  to  become  unpopular  by  my  Preaching.  But 
Woe  is  me  if  I  preach  it  not.  Woe  will  be  to  them 
if  they  do  not  hear." 

It  is  difficult  to  forsake  these  trenchant, 
impetuous  letters  of  John  Adams,  himself  one 
of  the  most  wholly  lovable  characters  of  the 
time,  with  his  peppery  temper,  his  irrepressible 
sense  of  humor,  his  moral  earnestness  and  per- 
sonal vanity.  Never  was  a  truer  soul,  more  de- 
voted to  his  country's  weal ;  never,  perhaps, 
when  beside  himself  with  the  knowledge  of 
wrong,  either  personal  or  general,  a  man  more 
difficult  to  manage. 

52 


LIFE  AT  PLYMOUTH 

"  I  write  every  Thing  to  you  who  know  how 
to  take  me,"  he  says  to  James  Warren,  in  a  letter 
of  October  25,  1775.  "  You  don't  expect  Cor- 
rectness nor  Ceremony  from  me  —  When  I 
have  any  Thing  to  write  and  one  Moment  to 
write  it  in  I  scratch  it  off  to  you  —  who  don't 
expect  that  I  should  dissect  these  Things,  or 
reduce  them  to  Correct  Writing.  You  must 
know  I  have  not  Time  for  that." 

On  the  twentieth  of  May,  1776,  he  sets  down 
one  sentence  which  stirs  the  mind  like  a  noble 
thought  dressed  in  a  splendor  like  its  own: 
"  Every  Post  and  every  Day  rolls  in  upon  us 
Independence  like  a  Torrent." 

All  through  the  letters  runs  the  swift  specu- 
lation on  saltpetre.  He  dreams  saltpetre  ;  he 
eats  and  drinks  it.  And  all  these  unbosomings 
came  to  James  Warren,  the  plain  man  of  no 
rhetoric,  who  marched  straight  forward,  and 
"never  doubted  clouds  would  break."  Warren 
was  not  only  a  strong  force,  but  a  steady  influ- 
ence, whose  power  was  not  to  be  computed.  He 
was  one  of  those  men  who  dominate  change  ;  and 
what  his  wife  said  of  him,  in  a  family  letter, 
shows  the  simple  tenacity  of  his  purpose,  as  well 
as  his  affection :  — 

"  His  attachments  are  strong,  and  when  he  likes 
or  dislikes  either  men  or  measures,  the  shaking  of 
a  leaf  will  not  alter  his  opinion." 

53 


MERCY  WARREN 

Again,  a  quiet  utterance  of  his  own  pictures 
him  in  all  his  mental  directness  and  simplicity. 
So  late  as  July,  1788,  he  writes  John  Adams 
that  he  regrets  not  having  been  able  to  meet 
and  welcome  him  on  the  very  first  day  of  his 
landing  in  America,  and  adds  :  — 

I  hope  soon  to  have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you, 
&  shewing  you  that  I  am  in  Sentiment,  in  principle 
Character  &  Conduct  the  very  same  man  you  was  so 
perfectly  acquainted  with  in  your  old  friend 

&  Humble  Serv* 

J.  WARREN. 

The  tastes  and  pursuits  of  the  two  men  were 
delightfully  in  unison.  Both  had  at  all  times 
a  true  and  touching  longing  for  domestic  joys  ; 
John  Adams  was  not  alone  in  wishing  he  might 
dine  "  upon  rusticoat  potatoes "  at  home,  in 
preference  to  the  gayest  banquet  under  heaven. 
Both  were  devoted  to  the  farm ;  and  when  they 
could  return  to  assume  the  management  of 
affairs  just  where  this  had  been  left  to  the 
careful  housewives,  great  was  their  joy. 

It  is  hardly  possible  to  take  Mrs.  Warren's  life 
consecutively,  like  those  careers  which  develop 
from  year  to  year  in  response  to  personal  stress  ; 
rather  must  it  be  read  in  reference  to  public 
periods  and  emotions.  Possibly  there  is  some- 
thing misleading  in  throwing  the  friends  of  her 

54 


LIFE  .AT  PLYMOUTH 

youth  and  her  later  life  together  in  a  vocal 
symposium  ;  but  only  by  viewing  it  as  a  whole 
can  we  understand  what  a  goodly  company 
this  was.  There  were  not  only  the  Adamses, 
but  Mrs.  Adams's  sister,  Mrs.  Shaw ;  Hannah 
J^mthrop,  the  wife  of  Dr.  Winthrop  of  Har- 
vard(Prl5fessor  of  Mathematics  and  Natural 
Philosophy),  with  whom  she  corresponded  as 
Philomela  to  Mrs.  Winthrop's  Honoria.  At 
one  time  she  made  Mrs.  Winthrop  (who  then 
figured  as  Narcissa)  known  to  Mrs.  Adams 
(Portia),  to  their  mutual  delight.  She  became 
acquainted  with  Mrs.  Montgomery  (whose  hus- 
band was  killed,  m  1  TO,  111  Hie  Uttack  on  Que- 
bec) through  addressing  a  letter  of  condolence 
to  the  heart-broken  widow.  The  friendship 
grew  and  continued  to  their  increasing  satis- 
faction. (I  cannot  but  feel  that  Mrs.  Warren's 
admiring  attention  was  drawn  to  the  husband 
and  wife  through  that  rather  theatrical  excla- 
mation of  his  on  setting  forth,  "You  shall 
never  blush  for  your  Montgomery  !  "  Like 
all  imaginative  persons,  Mercy  Warren  loved 
"  a  piece  of  purple.")  Then  there  were__Mrs— -~ 
.Waahiagton^  and  Mrs.  Hancock,  —  a  group  of 
noble  dames.  Some  of  theseladies  had  a 
very  pretty  taste  for  sentiment,  which  was 
not  totally  abolished  by  the  great  themes  on 
which  they  wrote.  Their  fictitious  names  are 

55 


MERCY   WARREN 

only  less  high-flown  than  those  which  flut- 
tered about  the  "Matchless  Orinda;"  over- 
sea there  had  flourished  such  pseudonyms 
as  Rosania,  the  "  adored  Valeria,"  the  "  daz- 
zling Polycrite,"  and  "  noble  Palacmon,"  and 
we  were  only  a  step  behind  with  our  Portias, 
Dianas,  and  Aurelias.  No  wonder,  when  ma- 
jestic events  were  stalking  through  the  land, 
that  there  was  some  cosey  joy  in  embroidering 
an  occasional  mood  with  fancy. 

The  men  of  the  time  were  Mrs.  Warren's 
intellectual  comrades;  she  received  letters 
from  Samuel  Adams,  Jefferson,  Dickinson, 
Gerry,  Knox,  and  had  occasionally  a  formal 
letter  from  Washington,  which,  with  others  from 
his  wife,  indicated  the  friendly  footing  between 
the  two  families.  But  one  vivid  intellectual 
stimulus  came  to  her  from  abroad,  —  more 
powerful,  perhaps,  from  the  precise  circum- 
stances of  the  case  than  from  the  ability  of  the 
person  who  exerted  it.  This  was  the  lady  to 
whom  she  refers,  with  careful  reverence,  as 
"  the  celebrated  Mrs.  Macaulay." 

At  a  cursory  glance,  Mrs.  Macaulay  seems  to 
have  held  in  Great  Britain  somewhat  the  same 
position  which  Mrs.  Warren  occupied  in  Amer- 
ica ;  moreover,  their  opinions  and  intellectual 
tastes  were  strikingly  similar.  Mrs.  Macaulay 
was  an  enthusiast  in  the  study  of  history,  and 


LIFE  AT  PLYMOUTH 

her  conclusions  were  of  the  most  radical  dye. 
Liberty  was  her  chosen  mistress,  her  theme  and 
her  aspiration;  and  her  pronounced  views  in 
favor  of  democracy  must  have  endeared  her  to 
Mrs.  Warren  in  the  same  measure  in  which  they 
rendered  her  distasteful  to  the  Tory  contin- 
gency of  her  own  country.  Indeed,  the  two 
kept  pace  in  work  of  about  the  same  amount  of 
earnestness  and  intrinsic  value,  save  that  Mrs. 
Macaulay's  historical  output  came  first.  She 
was  several  years  younger  than  Mrs.  Warren, 
and  it  was  when  she  was  a  little  over  thirty  that 
the  first  volume  of  her  History  of  England  from 
the  Accession  of  James  I.  was  sent  forth,  to  be 
immediately  rent  and  torn  by  Tory  critics,  who 
spared  neither  it  nor  its  author.  But  the  com- 
pletion of  the  work,  a  few  years  later,  gave 
Mrs.  Macaulay  a  more  than  respectable  stand- 
ing among  impartial  students ;  and  she  reaped 
abundant  laurels  in  the  social  and  intellectual 
world,  was  feted  in  Paris,  and  crowned  by  the 
approbation  of  Madame  Roland.  She  went 
back  to  England  so  infected  with  French  fash- 
ions that  the  world  in  general  (especially  the 
Tories !)  lost  all  patience  with  her. 

"  Painted  up  to  the  eyes,"  said  John  Wilkes, 
with  a  too  realistic  pun,  "  and  looking  as  rotten 
as  an  old  Catherine  pear." 

Then  again  she  fell  into  indiscretion :  when 

57 


MERCY  WARREN 

she  was  between  forty  and  fifty,  she  challenged 
the  world's  judgment  by  marrying  a  youth  who 
had  not  half  her  years.  The  passee  Catherine 
became  Catherine  Graham,  and  seemed  well 
content  with  the  change,  though  she  thereby 
estranged  an  influential  friend  and  patron,  Dr. 
Wilson,  rector  of  St.  Stephen  Walbrook,  who 
had  given  her  a  house  and  furniture,  and  who, 
though  he  was  too  generous  to  recover  his  gift, 
never  forgave  her  for  declining  into  the  green 
sickness  of  so  incongruous  a  union.  The  lady 
was  evidently  eccentric,  and  careless  of  public 
opinion,  though  even  so  decorous  a  matron  as 
Mrs.  Warren  does  not  impeach  her  morals. 
Indeed,  the  American  dame  is  shown  at  her 
best  in  the  large-minded  fairness  with  which 
she  sets  aside  current  gossip,  and  takes  instead 
the  witness  of  the  spirit. 

"  The  celebrated  Mrs.  Macaulay  Graham  is 
with  us,"  she  writes  her  son,  in  1784.  "  She 
is  a  lady  whose  Resources  of  knowledge  seem 
to  be  almost  inexhaustable  .  .  .  When  I  con- 
template the  superiority  of  her  Genius  I  Blush 
for  the  imperfections  of  Human  Nature  &  when 
I  consider  her  as  my  friend  I  draw  a  Veil  over 
the  foibles  of  the  Woman.  And  while  her 
distinguished  tallents  exhibit  the  sex  at  least 
on  a  footing  of  equality  their  delicacy  is  hurt 
by  her  improper  connexion.  Her  Right  of 


LIFE  AT  PLYMOUTH 

private  judgment  &  independency  of  spirit  may 
Vindicate  the  step  but  I  fear  the  World  will 
not  readily  forgive.  Yet  Mr.  G.  appears  to  be 
a  man  of  understanding  &  virtue." 

Mrs.  Graham's  own  social  world  was  not 
equally  generous  to  her,  so  far  as  her  radical 
views  were  concerned  ;  and  one  need  go  no  fur- 
ther than  Dr.  Johnson  for  an  antipathy,  if  not  to 
her,  at  least  to  her  theories.  More  than  once 
he  gave  her  a  down-setting ;  for  they  met  only 
to  differ,  he  to  quiz  her  and  she  to  retort,  until 
jocose  friends  proposed  that  they  should  marry 
and  make  the  feud  perennial.  Here  is  the  old 
story  of  one  encounter  :  — 

"  Sir,"  said  Dr.  Johnson,  "  there  is  one  Mrs. 
Macaulay  in  this  town,  a  great  Republican. 
One  day  when  I  was  at  her  house,  I  put  on 
a  very  grave  countenance,  and  said  to  her, 
*  Madam,  I  am  now  become  a  convert  to  your 
way  of  thinking.  I  am  convinced  that  all 
mankind  are  upon  an  equal  footing  ;  and  to 
give  you  an  unquestionable  proof,  Madam,  that 
I  am  in  earnest,  here  is  a  very  sensible,  civil, 
well-behaved  fellow-citizen,  your  footman.  I 
desire  that  he  may  be  allowed  to  sit  down  and 
dine  with  us.'  I  thus,  sir,  showed  her  the 
absurdity  of  the  levelling  doctrine.  She  has 
never  liked  me  since." 

Mrs.  Macaulay  and  Mrs.  Warren  corresponded 

59 


MERCY  WARREN 

in  a  fashion  suggesting  the  severest  intellectual 
decorum.  Nothing  short  of  a  dynasty  or  politi- 
cal "  earthquake  and  eclipse  "  seemed  worthy 
the  sweep  of  their  ambitious  pens.  Mrs.  War- 
ren, albeit  she  writes  to  a  British  subject, 
arraigns  the  government  of  Great  Britain 
without  a  qualm  ;  and  Mrs.  Macaulay  acqui- 
esces in  the  justice  of  her  stand.  She,  in 
return,  tosses  about  the  monarchies  of  Europe 
like  shuttlecocks,  predicting  and  pondering 
over  the  fate  of  each.  Possibly  she,  at  least, 
would  have  liked  to  mention  chiffons  for  a 
change,  for  her  Paris  life  had  taught  her  the 
value  of  extraneous  charms  ;  but,  having  taken 
the  stand  of  feminine  superiority,  she  held  her- 
self strictly  to  the  issue  at  stake.  Is  it  too 
trivial  a  mental  attitude  to  suggest  that  she 
might  have  done  better  ?  When  the  Immortal 
Gods  have  need  of  historians,  they  will  create 
them;  but  even  they  do  not  often  give  us  a 
female  Pepys,  a  chronicler  of  gossip  and 
custom. 

In  1784,  Mrs.  Macaulay  visited  America 
with  her  husband,  and  was  a  guest  of  the 
Warrens,  as  well  as  at  Mount  Vernon.  Com- 
ments in  regard  to  her,  questions  and  eager 
answers,  fly  about  in  the  letters  of  the  day, 
and  it  is  evident  that  her  visit  created  no 
small  breeze.  But  like  so  many  figures  which 

60 


LIFE  AT  PLYMOUTH 

flourish  by  reason  of  strong  personal  force,  or 
mediocrity  in  their  immediate  contemporaries, 
her  star  has  declined,  until  she  must  be  zeal- 
ously sought  for  even  in  the  company  she  once 
adorned.  The  judgment  of  time  has  rele- 
gated her  to  an  inconspicuous  niche  very  far 
outside  the  temple  of  fame  which  she  once 
bade  fair  to  enter;  and  "the  celebrated  Mrs. 
Macaulay  "  of  Mrs.  Warren's  day  is  emphati- 
cally "no  more." 

It  is  good  to  think  what  must  have  been 
said  at  firesides  and  in  informal  meetings  of 
patriots  when  every  man  "  put  his  whole  soul," 
not  in  a  jest,  but  in  a  worshipful  panegyric  on 
Liberty,  or  a  picture  of  her  radiant  guise.  Men 
were  always  getting  together  to  exchange  in- 
formation or  impressions.  Daily  life  became 
an  incessant  carrying  of  news,  good  or  bad, 
but  always,  from  its  bearing,  great.  Commit- 
tees of  Correspondence  were  formed  through- 
out the  Colonies  to  transmit  intelligence  by 
letter  ;  and  before  Samuel  Adams  had  formu- 
lated the  scheme  and  brought  it  into  definite 
operation,  it  was  much  discussed,  especially  in 
the  house  of  James  Warren,  of  Plymouth,  where, 
according  to  Mercy  Warren,  it  originated.  This 
was  her  version  of  a  debated  point :  — 

"  At  an  early  period  of  the  contest,   when   the 
public  mind  was   agitated  by  unexpected  events, 
61 


MERCY  WARREN 

and  remarkably  pervaded  with  perplexity  and  anx- 
iety, James  Warren,  Esq.,  of  Plymouth,  first  pro- 
posed this  institution  to  a  private  friend  on  a  visit 
at  his  own  house.  Mr.  Warren  had  been  an  active 
and  influential  member  of  the  General  Assembly 
from  the  beginning  of  the  troubles  in  America, 
which  commenced  soon  after  the  demise  of  George 
the  Second.  The  principles  and  firmness  of  this 
gentleman  were  well  known,  and  the  uprightness 
of  his  character  had  sufficient  weight  to  recommend 
the  measure.  As  soon  as  the  proposal  was  com- 
municated to  a  number  of  gentlemen  in  Boston, 
it  was  adopted  with  zeal,  and  spread  with  the 
rapidity  of  enthusiasm,  from  town  to  town,  and 
from  province  to  province.  Thus  an  intercourse 
was  established,  by  which  a  similarity  of  opinion, 
a  connexion  of  interest,  and  a  union  of  action 
appeared,  that  set  opposition  at  defiance,  and  de- 
feated the  machination  of  their  enemies  through 
all  the  colonies." 

When,  at  the  beginning  of  the  year  1773, 
the  scheme  came  into  actual  being,  it  was  no 
nursling ;  it  had  virtually  existed  before,  at 
moments  of  public  exigency,  and  so  far  as 
individuals  were  concerned,  it  had  already 
lived  long.  For  talk  was  everywhere  rioting, 
the  talk  which  is  the  precursor  of  deeds, 
and  private  letters  had  been  disseminating 
it.  Patriotism  was  flaming  from  the  pulpit ; 
it  was  the  fire  on  the  altar.  There  was  Dr. 


LIFE  AT  PLYMOUTH 

Mayhew,  who,  in  his  sermon^  on  the  Repeal  of 
the  Stamp  Act,  in  1766,  said  the  things  which 
were  afterwards  done  in  blood.  No  utterance 
could  have  been  more  trenchant,  less  to  be  mis- 
taken. It  was  like  one  crying  for  liberty  from 
the  housetops.  He  dared  allude  to  the  black- 
ness of  the  day  when  the  Stamp  Act  was  to 
enter  into  being,  and  his  exultation  at  finding 
the  cloud  had  passed,  and  his  peroration  to 
Liberty,  "  celestial  maid,"  were  never  to  be  for- 
gotten. There  was  Dr.  Chauncy,  calmer  of 
temper  but  no  less  unyielding,  who  asserted 
in  cold  blood  that  the  cause  was  so  righteous 
that,  in  the  event  of  failure,  eternal  justice 
would  send  a  host  of  angels  to  its  rescue; 
and  Dr.  Samuel  Cooper,  whose  pen  was  ready 
like  his  speech  in  freedom's  name.  He  was 
a  man  of  such  culture  that  the  French  offi- 
cers allied  to  us  took  delight  in  his  society, 
and  no  doubt  aided  him  in  that  very  question- 
able accomplishment  of  his  (according  to  Co- 
lonial estimate),  a  knowledge  of  the  dangerous 
and  pernicious  French  language. 

But  to  offset  these  good  men  of  a  godly 
cause  was  that  altogether  delightful  old  wit 
and  Tory,  Dr.  Mather  Byles.  His  sympathies 
were  frankly  loyal,  and  he  kept  on  praying 
for  the  King  and  "consorting"  with  British 
officers  until  his  congregation  very  logically 

63 


MERCY  WARREN 

concluded  that  he  was  no  longer  fitted  to  pray 
publicly  for  them  ;  and  in  1776,  his  connection 
with  them  was  dissolved.  But  all  through  the 
years  of  his  pastorate,  good  stories  about  him 
were  always  flying  over  the  Province,  to  be 
repeated  at  every  table.  His  puns  are  as  in- 
trinsic a  part  of  New  England  history  as  those 
of  Lamb  and  Sydney  Smith  in  the  literature  of 
England.  Tudor's  stories  about  him  are  per- 
ennially good.  Doubtless  his  people  would 
have  made  him,  like  his  colleagues,  commit 
himself  in  the  pulpit  on  the  subject  of  poli- 
tics, that  they  might  have  him  on  the  hip ;  but 
he  was  not  to  be  beguiled. 

"I  have,"  said  he,  " thrown  up  four  breast- 
works, behind  which  I  have  entrenched  myself, 
neither  of  which  can  be  forced.  In  the  first  place, 
I  do  not  understand  politics ;  in  the  second  place, 
you  all  do,  every  man  and  mother's  son  of  you;  in 
the  third  place,  you  have  politics  all  the  week 
(pray  let  one  day  in  seven  be  devoted  to  religion) ; 
in  the  fourth  place,  I  am  engaged  in  a  work  of 
infinitely  greater  importance ;  give  me  any  subject 
to  preach  on  of  more  consequence  than  the  truths 
I  bring  to  you,  and  I  will  preach  on  it  the  next 
Sabbath." 

He  was  of  all  men  "  good  at  the  uptake,"  and 
perpetually  ready.  Having  been  denounced,  he 

64 


LIFE  AT  PLYMOUTH 

was  tried  and  confined  for  a  time  in  his  own 
house.  One  day  he  persuaded  the  sentinel  to 
do  an  errand  for  him,  while  he  kept  guard ;  and 
the  townspeople  were  amused  beyond  measure 
at  seeing  the  doctor  "  very  gravely  marching 
before  his  door,  the  musket  on  his  shoulder, 
keeping  guard  over  himself."  It  was  he  who, 
assigned  one  sentinel  and  then  another,  and 
finally  left  to  his  own  devices,  remarked  that 
he  had  been  "  guarded,  re-guarded,  and  disre- 
guarded."  It  was  he  who,  when  two  of  the 
selectmen  stuck  fast  in  a  slough,  and  alighted 
to  pull  out  their  chaise,  said  to  them  respect- 
fully, "  Gentlemen,  I  have  often  complained  to 
you  of  this  nuisance  without  any  attention  be- 
ing paid  to  it,  and  I  am  very  glad  to  see  you 
stirring  in  the  matter  now." 

It  was  he  who,  on  the  Dark  Day  of  1780,  re- 
turned word  to  a  timorous  matron  who  had 
sent  her  son  to  him  for  spiritual  or  scientific 
explanation,  "  My  dear,  you  will  give  my  com- 
pliments to  your  mamma,  and  tell  her  that  I 
am  as  much  in  the  dark  as  she  is." 

Did  these  shafts  move  Mercy  Warren  to 
laughter  in  spite  of  the  jester's  odious  prin- 
ciples ?  Sometimes  I  doubt  it,  for  in  all  her 
voluminous  legacy  of  print  and  manuscript,  I 
fail  to  discover  one  real  gleam  of  humor ;  satir- 
ical fancies  there  are  many,  but  no  gambol- 

5  65 


MERCY  WARREN 

lings  for  pure  love  of  fun.  But  I  know  who  did 
laugh,  —  the  jovial,  genial  man,  her  husband. 
He  could  not  only  see  a  joke  "  by  daylight," 
but  he  was  one  of  that  happy  fraternity  who 
can  smell  them  out  in  every  bush. 


IY 

THE  TESTIMONY  OF  LETTERS 

THE  most  casual  glance  at  the  correspond- 
ence of  Mercy  Warren  is  enough  to  send  the 
mind  fondly  and  appealingly  in  another  direc- 
tion, —  toward  that  chapter  in  Cranford  where 
dear  Miss  Matty  goes  over  the  letters  of  her 
"  ever-honoured  father"  and  "  dearly-beloved 
mother,"  prior  to  laying  them  on  a  sacred 
funeral  pyre ;  for  one  grieves  that  the  real 
woman  had  not  been  beset  with  the  worldly 
longings  of  the  imaginary  one,  or  that,  having 
them,  she  had  shamed  to  put  them  in  words. 
One  feels  like  praying  Mrs.  Warren  to  chronicle 
her  desire  for  a  "  white  Paduasoy,"  or  her 
need  of  instruction  about  the  "  pig-killing."  No 
hope  of  that !  she  is  painfully  abstract,  and,  so 
far  as  her  correspondence  bears  witness,  she 
lived  upon  stilts.  She  seldom  indulges  in  a 
request  so  severely  practical  as  that  of  Abi- 
gail Adams  to  her  husband  at  Philadelphia, 
in  1775:  — 

67 


MERCY  WAS  REN 

"Purchase  me  a  bundle  of  pins  and  put  them  in 
your  trunk  for  me.  The  cry  for  pins  is  so  great 
that  what  I  used  to  buy  for  seven  shillings  and 
sixpence  are  now  twenty  shillings,  and  not  to  be 
had  for  that.  A  bundle  contains  six  thousand,  for 
which  I  used  to  give  a  dollar;  but  if  you  can  pro- 
cure them  for  fifty  shillings,  or  three  pounds,  pray 
let  me  have  them." 

Expect  nothing  from  her  as  to  "  dammasks, 
padusoy,  gauze,  ribbins,  flapets,  flowers,  new 
white  hats,  .  .  .  garments,  orniments."  Nay, 
she  not  only,  as  might  be  expected,  clings  to 
the  stately  phraseology  of  the  period,  but  it  is 
never  bent  to  the  unworthy  uses  of  small  beer. 
Her  mind  goes  ever  rustling  about  in  stiff  bro- 
cade. Those  were  the  days  of  an  ultra-refine- 
ment of  speech.  Youths  and  maidens  did  not 
baldly  fall  in  love ;  their  "  affections  were  en- 
gaged." There  was  much  talk  of  "  hearts 
endowed  with  the  most  exquisite  sensibility," 
of  "  sentiment  the  most  refined,  expressed  in 
a  nervous  and  elegant  style,"  and  the  mar- 
riage ceremony  endowed  one  with  a  "  partner," 
a  "  companion,"  or,  term  of  decorous  restraint, 
a  "  friend."  And  of  all  this  verbal  euphuism 
Mrs.  Warren  is  mistress  supreme. 

One  strikingly  characteristic  letter  is  that 
wherein  she  avows  to  her  husband  her  inten- 
tion of  ignoring  politics  for  the  time  being, 


THE  TESTIMONY  OF  LETTERS 

having  so  many  items  of  domestic  interest  to 
tell  him.  The  mind  starts  up  in  pleased  alert- 
ness. Now  at  last  we  are  to  know  something 
actual  about  the  stately  dame  !  Thereupon  she 
describes  a  memorable  walk  with  her  sister, 
Mrs.  Otis.  After  a  general  allusion  to  the 
"  Beauties  of  Nature,"  she  adds :  "  We  moved 
from  field  to  field  &  from  orchard  to  orchard 
with  many  Reflections  on  the  tumultuous  joy 
of  the  Great  and  the  gay  and  the  restless  anx- 
ieties of  political  life.  Nothing  was  wanting 
to  compleat  the  felicity  of  this  Hour  of  Rural 
Enjoyment  but  the  Company  of  Strephon  & 
Collin  Whose  observations  might  have  im- 
proved the  understanding  while  their  pres- 
ence would  have  gladdened  the  Hearts  of  their 
favorite  Nymphs." 

Reflections,  forsooth  !  Catch  up  thy  skirts, 
dear  dame,  now  thou  art  out  of  door,  and 
caper  away  to  the  oaten  pipe !  We  shall  love 
thee  the  better  for  it. 

You  can  never,  so  to  speak,  take  her  unre- 
servedly to  your  heart.  Moreover,  she  is  too 
academic  to  appeal  often  to  a  reader  through 
those  engaging  lapses  of  spelling  so  endearing 
in  the  writers  of  an  earlier  day.  When  Abi- 
gail Adams  apologizes  for  a  long  silence  by 
saying  that  she  has  not  used  the  pen  on  ac- 
count of  "  a  very  bad  soar  finger,"  the  very 


MERCY  WARREN 

heart  in  one's  bosom  goes  out  to  her  ;  she  com- 
pensates, in  a  measure,  for  our  past  suffering 
in  learning  to  spell.  But  little  of  that  engaging 
sort  can  be  expected  of  Mrs.  Warren.  Her 
errors  are  very  infrequent ;  she  is  capable  of 
knowing  more  or  less  about  "simme  colings, 
nots  of  interrigations,  peorids,  commoes,"  and 
the  like,  and  though  her  style  and  expression 
are  often  sufficiently  imperfect,  it  is  seldom 
through  forgetfulness  or  lack  of  care.  She  was 
evidently  as  closely  attached  to  her  husband  as 
it  is  possible  for  a  wife  to  be ;  yet  throughout 
her  letters  she  addresses  him  with  a  measured 
decorum  as  her  friend,  only  breaking  out  in 
sudden  flame  under  stress  of  great  loneliness 
and  longing  into  "  the  best  friend  of  my  heart." 
Not  such  is  Margaret  Winthrop's  yearning  ten- 
derness, nor  Anne  Bradstreet's  pathetic  rhymed 
lamenting  in  the  absence  of  her  dear. 

James  Warren  had  no  such  epistolary  re- 
straint. He  evidently  felt  himself  to  be  a 
plain  man,  with  no  special  knack  of  expres- 
sion. "  I  never  write  well,"  he  says  to  one 
intimate  correspondent ;  but  his  letters  are 
so  graphic,  so  full  of  a  homely  humor,  that 
one  turns  to  them  with  a  breath  of  relief  after 
the  stately  perorations  of  his  spouse.  He  has 
no  hesitation  in  expressing  his  love  for  her  in 
other  than  measured  terms.  She  is  his  "  saint," 


THE  TESTIMONY  OF  LETTERS 

his  "little  angel,"  his  "beloved."  When  she 
is  absent,  he  misses  her  beyond  expression.  In 
May,  1763,  he  writes  her  from  Plymouth,  while 
she  is  making  a  visit  in  Boston  :  — 

"I  took  Winslow  from  School  as  I  came  into 
town,  his  first  Enquiry  was  for  the  pretty  things. 
The  Trumpet  satisfied  his  wishes  &  made  him  for 
a  while  Happy.  Charles  has  forgot  you  &  is  in- 
different to  me,  is  as  fond  of  Aunt  Nabby  as  he 
ever  was  of  his  Mamma,  she  is  very  fond  of  him, 
&  returns  his  affection  for  her  in  a  degree  that  you 
would  rather  wish  than  Expect. 

...  I  need  not  tell  you  that  I  am  uneasy  with- 
out you,  that  I  wish  for  the  time  I  am  to  return. 
In  short  I  feel  so  little  satisfaction  in  my  own  mind 
the  Days  are  so  tedious  &  every  thing  appears  so 
different  without  you." 

Another  letter,  written  from  Concord,  April 
6,  1775,  is  so  instinct  with  the  despairing 
patriotism  of  the  day,  and  ends  so  sweetly 
human  in  his  boyish  fondness  for  her,  that 
our  hearts  go  out  to  him  anew :  — 

MY  DEAR  MERCY,  —  Four  days  ago  I  had  full 
Confidence  that  I  should  have  had  the  pleasure  of 
being  with  you  this  day,  we  were  then  near  closeing 
the  Session.  Last  Saturday  we  came  near  to  an 
Adjournment,  were  almost  equally  divided  on  that 
question,  the  principle  argument  that  seemd  to  pre- 
71 


MERCY  WARREN 

ponderate,  &  turn  in  favour  of  setting  into  this 
week  was  the  prospect  of  News  &  News  we  have, 
last  week  things  wore  rather  a  favourable  aspect, 
hut  alas  how  uncertain  are  our  prospects.  Sunday 
evening  hr ought  us  Accounts  of  a  Vessel  at  Marble- 
head  from  Falmouth,  &  the  English  Papers  &c 
hy  her.  I  have  no  need  to  recite  particulars  you 
will  have  the  whole  in  the  Papers,  &  wont  wonder 
at  my  forgoeing  the  pleasure  of  being  with  you. 
I  dare  say  you  would  not  desire  to  see  me  till  I 
could  tell  you  that  I  had  done  all  in  my  power  to 
secure  &  defend  us  &  our  Country.  We  are  no 
longer  at  a  loss  what  is  Intended  us  by  our  dear 
Mother.  We  have  ask-  for  Bread  and  she  gives  us 
a  Stone,  &  a  serpent  for  a  Fish,  however  my  Spirits 
are  by  no  means  depress-,  you  well  know  my  Senti- 
ments of  the  Force  of  both  Countrys,  you  know  my 
opinion  of  the  Justness  of  our  Cause,  you  know  my 
Confidence  in  a  Righteous  Providence.  I  seem  to 
want  nothing  to  keep  up  my  Spirits  &  to  Inspire 
me  with  a  proper  resolution  to  Act  my  part  well  in 
this  difficult  time  but  seeing  you  in  Spirits,  & 
knowing  that  they  flow  from  the  heart,  how  shall 
I  support  myself  if  you  suffer  these  Misfortunes  to 
prey  on  your  tender  frame  &  add  to  my  difficulties 
an  affliction  too  great  to  bear  of  itself,  the  Vertu- 
ous  should  be  happy  under  all  Circumstances. 
This  state  of  things  will  last  but  a  little  while. 
I  believe  we  shall  have  many  chearful  rides  to- 
gether yet.  we  proposed  last  week  a  short  adjourn- 
ment &  I  had  in  a  manner  Engaged  a  Ch amber 
72 


THE   TESTIMONY  OF  LETTERS 

here  for  my  Beloved  &  pleased  myself  with  the 
health  &  pleasure  the  Journey  was  to  give  her, 
but  I  believe  it  must  be  postponed  till  some  Event 
takes  place  &  changes  the  face  of  things.  All 
things  wear  a  warlike  appearance  here,  this  Town 
is  full  of  Cannon,  ammunition  stores  &c  &c  &  the 
army  long  for  them  &  they  want  nothing  but 
strength  to  Induce  an  attempt  on  them,  the 
people  are  ready  &  determined  to  defend  this  Coun- 
try Inch  by  Inch.  The  Inhabitants  of  Boston 
begin  to  move,  the  Selectmen  &  Committee  of 
Correspondence  are  to  be  with  us  ...  but  to  dis- 
miss publick  matters  let  me  ask  how  you  do  & 
how  do  my  little  Boys  especially  my  little  Henry 
who  was  Complaining.  I  long  to  see  you.  I  long 
to  set  with  you  under  our  Vines  &c  &  have  none  to 
make  us  afraid.  ...  I  intend  to  fly  Home  I  mean 
as  soon  as  Prudence  Duty  &  Honour  will  permitt. 

April  7th 

The  moving  of  the  Inhabitants  of  Boston  if 
Effected  will  be  one  Grand  Move.  I  hope  one 
thing  will  follow  another  till  America  shall  ap- 
pear Grand  to  all  the  world.  I  begin  to  think  of 
the  Trunks  which  may  be  ready  against  I  come 
home,  we  perhaps  may  be  forced  to  Move :  if  we 
are  let  us  strive  to  submit  to  the  dispensations  of 
Providence  with  Christian  resignation  &  Phylo- 
sophick  dignity.  God  has  given  you  great  abilities, 
you  have  improved  them  in  great  Acquirements. 
You  are  possess^  of  Eminent  Virtues  &  distiii- 
73 


MERCY  WARREN 

guished  Piety,  for  all  these  I  Esteem  I  Love 
you  in  a  degree  that  I  can't  Express,  they  are 
all  now  to  be  called  into  action  for  the  good  of 
mankind  for  the  good  of  your  friends,  for  the  pro- 
motion of  virtue  &  patriotism,  don't  let  the  flut- 
tering of  your  Heart  Interrupt  your  Health  or 
disturb  your  repose,  believe  me  I  am  continually 
Anxious  about  you.  ride  when  the  weather  is  good 
&  don't  work  or  read  too  much  at  other  times.  I 
must  bid  you  adieu.  God  Almighty  Bless  You  no 
letter  yet  what  can  it  mean,  is  she  not  well  she 
can't  forget  me  or  have  any  objections  to  writing. 

"  She  can't  forget  me !  "  And  this  lover's 
doubt  after  more  than  twenty  years  of  married 
life !  All  the  delicate  fears  of  love  were  with 
him  still. 

But  James  Warren  was  no  just  critic  of  his 
own  limitations.  "  I  never  express  myself  well !" 
On  the  contrary,  when  he  had  something  to 
say,  his  prose  became  so  simple,  homely,  and 
natural  (as  befits  the  word  of  a  man  of  action), 
that  we  would  not  for  worlds  give  it  in  ex- 
change for  gilded  rhetoric.  Read  his  message 
on  a  day  after  a  greater  one,  and  conjure  up 
the  picture  therein :  — 

WATER-TOWN  June  18  1775 

MY  DEAR  MERCY, —  The  Extraordinary  Nature 
of  the  Events  which  have  taken  place  in  the  last 
48  Hours  have  Interrupted  that  steady  &  only  In- 

74 


THE  TESTIMONY  OF  LETTERS 

tercourse  which  the  situation  of  publick  affairs 
allows  me.  the  Night  before  last  our  Troops  pos- 
sess* themselves  of  a  Hill  in  Charlestown  &  had 
time  only  to  heave  up  an  Imperfect  Breastwork  the 
regular  Troops  from  the  Batterys  in  Boston  &  two 
Men  of  War  in  the  Ferryway  began  early  next 
Morning  a  Heavy  Fire  on  them  which  was  Con- 
tinued till  about  Noon  when  they  Landed  a  large 
Number  of  Troops  &  after  a  stout  resistance  & 
great  Loss  on  their  side  dispossessed  our  Men, 
who  with  the  Accumulated  disadvantages  of  being 
Exposed  to  the  fire  of  their  Cannon  &  the  want  of 
Ammunition  &  not  being  supported  by  fresh  Troops 
were  obliged  to  abandon  the  Town  &  retire  to  our 
Lines  towards  Cambridge  to  which  they  made  a 
very  handsome  addition  last  Night,  with  a  Sav- 
age Barbarity  never  practised  among  Civilized 
Nations  they  fired,  &  have  utterly  destroyed  the 
Town  of  Charlestown.  We  have  had  this  day  at 
Dinner  another  alarm  that  they  were  Advancing 
on  our  Lines,  after  having  reinforced  their  Troops 
with  their  Horse  &c  &  that  they  were  out  at  Kox- 
bury.  We  Expected  this  would  have  been  an  Im- 
portant day.  they  are  reinforced  but  have  not 
Advanced  so  things  remain  at  present  as  they  were. 
We  have  killed  them  many  Men  &  have  killed  & 
wounded  about  an  hundred  by  the  best  Accounts  I 
can  get,  among  the  first  of  whom  to  our  inexpres- 
sible Grief  is  My  Friend  DocF  Warren  who  was 
killd  it  is  supposed  in  the  Lines  on  the  Hill  at 
Charlestown  in  a  Manner  more  Glorious  to  him- 
75 


MERCY  WARREN 

self  than  the  fate  of  Wolf  on  the  plains  of  Abra- 
ham. Many  other  officers  are  wounded  &  some 
killd.  it  is  Impossible  to  describe  the  Confusion 
in  this  place,  Women  &  Children  flying  into  the 
Country  armed  Men  Going  to  the  field  &  wounded 
Men  returning  from  there  fil  the  Streets.  I  shant 
attempt  a  description.  Your  Brother  borrowed  a 
Gun  &c  &  went  among  the  flying  Bullets  at  Charles- 
town  retd  last  Evening  10  o'clock,  the  Librarian 
got  a  slight  wound  with  a  musket  Ball  in  his  head. 
Howland  has  this  Minute  come  in  with  your  Let- 
ter. The  Continental  Congress  have  done  &  are 
doing  every  thing  we  can  wish  Dr  Church  retd  last 
Evening  &  Bro1  resolutions  for  assuming  Gov1  & 
for  supplying  provisions  &  powder  &  he  tells  us  tho 
under  the  rose  that  they  are  Contemplating  &  have 
perhaps  finished  the  Establishment  of  the  Army 
&  an  Emission  of  money  to  pay  &  support  them 
&  he  thinks  the  operations  of  yesterday  will  be 
more  than  sufficient  to  Induce  them  to  recommend 
the  Assumption  of  new  forms  of  Gov4  to  all  the 
Colonies.  I  wish  I  could  be  more  perticular.  I 
am  now  on  a  Committee  of  Importance  &  only 
steal  time  to  add  sentences  seperately.  I  feel  for 
my  Dear  Wife  least  her  apprehensions  should  hurt 
her  health,  be  not  concerned  about  me,  take  care  of 
your  self.  You  can  secure  a  retreat  &  have  proper 
Notice  in  Season,  &  if  you  are  safe  &  the  Boys  I 
shall  be  happy  fall  what  will  to  my  Interest.  I 
cant  be  willing  you  should  come  into  this  part  of 
the  Country  at  present.  I  will  see  you  as  soon  as 
76 


THE  TESTIMONY  OF  LETTERS 

possible,  cant  say  when,  the  mode  of  Gov*  pre- 
scribd  is  according  to  the  last  Charter,  some  are 
quite  satisfied  with  it  you  know  I  wishd  for  a  more 
perfect  one.  it  is  now  Monday  Morning.  I  hear 
nothing  yet  but  the  roaring  of  Cannon  below,  but 
no  Body  regards  them.  I  need  not  say  that  I  long 
to  see  you,  perhaps  never  more  in  my  life.  I  shall 
try  hard  for  it  this  week.  I  hope  your  strawber- 
ries are  well  taken  care  of  &  that  you  have  fine 
feasting  on  them.  Your  Brother  is  waiting  for 
Freeman  who  with  all  his  patriotism  has  left  us 
for  10  days.  I  have  Letters  from  both  Mr  Adams 
&  Gushing.  I  can't  Inclose  them,  because  I  must 
answer  them  when  I  can  get  oppy  I  am  calld  on  & 
must  Conclude  with  my  wishes  &  prayer  for  yr 
Happiness  &  with  Love  to  my  Boys  &  regards  to 
Friends  your  aff  Husband 

JA?  WARREN 

S.  Adams  is  very  unwell  the  jaundice  to  a  great 
degree  &  his  spirits  somewhat  depress3.  Church 
hopes  he  will  recover.  I  hope  some  of  us  will  sur- 
vive this  Contest. 

Church  has  put  into  my  hands  a  Curious  Letter 
full  of  Interesting  Intelligence  I  wish  I  could  give 
it  to  you  you  may  remember  to  ask  me  about  it  & 
the  Author.  I  have  shown  it  to  Coll.  Otis  if  he 
goes  before  me  enquire  of  him.  Your  Brother 
Jem  dined  with  us  yesterday  behaved  well  till 
dinner  was  almost  done  &  then  in  the  old  way 
got  up  went  off  where  I  know  not,  has  been  about 
at  Cambridge  &  Eoxbury  several  days. 
77 


MERCY  WARREN 

Who  is  not  thrilled  by  this  simple  picture  of 
a  noble  mind  o'erthrown,  —  the  mad  patriot, 
James  Otis,  wandering  about,  confused  by  the 
clamor  of  the  time  and  totally  incapable  of 
dominating  it!  The  touch  of  yearning  human 
tenderness  completing  the  message  is  sweet  be- 
yond measure.  With  the  smoke  of  battle  still  in 
the  foreground  of  his  day,  James  Warren  could 
picture  his  little  angel  in  her  green  retreat,  and 
hope  she  had  fine  feasting  !  No  wonder  Mercy 
Warren  adored  the  friend  of  her  heart. 

There  was  a  great  deal  of  love  in  this  Plym- 
outh household, — hearty,  wholesome  love  ;  and 
one  letter,  where  Mrs.  Warren  does  actually  un- 
bend, shows  her  at  her  best,  moved  by  ma- 
ternal pride  and  joy.  It  was  written  September 
21,  1775,  after  one  of  her  frequent  absences 
from  home :  — 

Just  as  I  [got]  up  from  dinner  this  day  yours  of 
the  15  &  18  came  to  hand ;  No  desert  was  ever  more 
welcome  to  a  luxurious  pallate,  it  was  a  regale  to 
my  longing  mind:  I  had  been  eagerly  looking  for 
more  than  a  week  for  a  line  from  the  best  friend 
of  my  heart. 

I  had  contemplated  to  spend  a  day  or  two  with 
my  good  father,  but  as  you  talk  of  returning  so 
soon  I  shall  give  up  that  and  every  other  plea- 
sure this  world  can  give  for  the  superior  pleasure 
of  your  company.  I  thank  you  for  the  many  ex- 
pressions in  yours  which  bespeak  the  most  affec- 
78 


THE  TESTIMONY  OF  LETTERS 

tionate  soul,  or  heart  warmed  with  friendship  & 
esteem  which  it  shall  ever  be  my  assiduous  care 
to  merit.  —  but  as  I  am  under  some  apprehensions 
that  you  will  be  again  disappointed  and  your  re- 
turn postponed,  I  will  endeavor  to  give  you  some 
account  of  the  reception  I  met  from  our  little 
family  on  my  arrival  among  them  after  an  absence 
which  they  thought  long:  your  requesting  this 
as  an  agreeable  amusement  is  a  new  proof  that 
the  Father  is  not  lost  in  the  occupations  of  the 
statesman. 

I  found  Charles  &  Henry  sitting  on  the  steps 
of  the  front  door  when  I  arrived  —  they  had  just 
been  expressing  their  ardent  wishes  to  each  other 
that  mamah  would  come  in  before  dinner  when  I 
turned  the  corner  having  our  habitation.  One  of 
them  had  just  finished  an  exclamation  to  the  other 
"Oh  what  would  I  give  if  mamah  was  now  in 
sight,"  you  may  easily  judge  what  was  their 
rapture  when  they  saw  their  wishes  instantly 
compleated. 

The  one  leaped  into  the  street  to  meet  me  —  the 
other  ran  into  the  house  in  an  extacy  of  joy  to 
communicate  the  tidings,  &  finding  my  children 
well  at  this  sickly  season  you  will  not  wonder  that 
with  a  joy  at  least  equal  to  theirs  I  ran  hastily  into 
the  entry;  but  before  I  had  reached  the  stair  top 
was  met  by  all  the  lovely  flock.  Winslow  half 
affronted  that  I  had  delayed  coming  home  so  long 
&  more  than  half  happy  in  the  return  of  his  fond 
mother,  turned  up  his  smiling  cheek  to  receive  a 
79 


MERCY  WARREN 

kiss  while  he  failed  in  the  effort  to  command  the 
grave  muscles  of  his  countenance. 

George's  solemn  brow  was  covered  with  pleasure 
&  his  grave  features  not  only  danced  in.  smiles  but 
broke  into  a  real  laugh  more  expressive  of  his 
heartfelt  happiness  than  all  the  powers  of  language 
could  convey  and  before  I  could  sit  down  and  lay 
aside  my  riding  attire  all  the  choice  gleanings  of 
the  Garden  were  offered  each  one  pressing  before 
the  other  to  pour  the  yellow  produce  into  their 
mamah's  lap. 

Not  a  complaint  was  uttered  —  not  a  tale  was 
told  through  the  day  but  what  they  thought  would 
contribute  to  the  happiness  of  their  best  friend; 
but  how  short  lived  is  human  happiness.  The 
ensuing  each  one  had  his  little  grievance  to  repeat, 
as  important  to  them  as  the  laying  an  unconsti- 
tutional tax  to  the  patriot  or  the  piratical  seazure 
of  a  ship  &  cargo,  after  much  labour  &  the  promis- 
sing  expectation  of  profitable  returns  when  the 
voyage  was  compleat  —  but  the  umpire  in  your 
absence  soon  accommodated  all  matters  to  mutual 
satisfaction  and  the  day  was  spent  in  much  cheer- 
fulness encircled  by  my  sons.  .  .  .  My  heart  has 
just  leaped  in  my  bosom  and  I  ran  to  the  stairs 
imagining  I  heard  both  your  voice  &  your  footsteps 
in  the  entry.  Though  disappointed  I  have  no 
doubt  this  pleasure  will  be  realized  as  soon  as 
possible  by 

Your  affectionate 

M.  WARREN. 


THE   TESTIMONY  OF  LETTERS 

James  Warren  is  constantly  expressing  his 
joy  over  the  appointment  of  Washington  and 
Lee;  and  on  this  question,  as  on  all  others  of 
a  political  nature,  his  wife  was  in  accord  with 
him.  One  of  his  letters,  written  to  John 
Adams,  contains  a  paragraph  strangely  pro- 
phetic of  the  reward  his  own  services  were  to 
receive: — 

July  7, 1775. 

I  am  Content  to  Move  in  a  small  Sphere.  I 
expect  no  distinction  but  that  of  an  honest  Man 
who  has  Exerted  every  Nerve.  You  and  I  must 
be  Content  without  a  Slice  from  the  great  pudding 
now  on  the  Table. 

As  to  his  wife,  her  most  serious  apprehen- 
sions were  for  him.  She  had  an  abiding 
faith,  broken  only  by  occasional  seasons  of 
gloom,  that  the  republic  would  live;  but  it 
often  seemed  to  her  that  it  could  only  continue 
at  the  sacrifice  of  what  was  dearer  to  her  than 
life  itself.  September  13,  1776,  she  writes 
"James  Warren  Esq.  att  Watertown":  — 

...  I  am  grieved  at  the  Advantages  Gained 
by  our  Enemies  and  anxious  for  our  friends  at 
New  York  but  I  own  my  Little  Heart  is  more 
affected  with  what  gives  pain  or  endangers  you  than 
with  everything  else.  What  do  you  mean  by  the 
part  you  must  bear  in  the  Late  Military  Call,  or 
why  suppose  any  pity  excited  in  my  Breast  but 
6  81 


MERCY  WARREN 

what  I  daily  feel  for  a  man  whose  Constant  appli- 
cation and  fatigue  is  sufficient  to  Break  the  finest 
Constitution  and  to  wear  out  the  spirits  unless 
supported  by  Grace  as  well  as  Resolution,  do  he 
more  Explicit.  I  hope  Nothing  is  Like  to  carry 
you  farther  from  me.  When  my  head  was  layed 
on  my  pillow  Last  Night  my  Heart  was  Rent  with 
the  Apprehension,  your  Life  is  of  Great  Value 
Both  to  the  public  &  to  the  family  as  well  as  to 
one  who  would  be  Miserable  without  you.  Could 
I  be  assured  you  would  not  be  exposed  in  the 
field  your  refusal  to  go  to  Philadelphia  would  give 
me  the  slightest  pleasure,  but  a  certain  appoint- 
ment was  dreaded  by  me  for  many  months  —  & 
has  been  a  source  of  pain  to  me  ever  since  it  was 
accepted.  I  ever  was  sensible  it  would  cost  you 
much  Labour  &  trouble  even  if  you  should  Never 
be  Called  to  action  &  if  you  should  —  I  forbear  to 
tell  my  fears  —  if  I  thought  that  was  probable  I 
believe  I  should  almost  persuade  you  to  Go  to 
Philadelphia  but  I  know  not  what  is  best.  I  desire 
therefore  to  leave  you  in  the  Care  of  Providence 
&  to  trust  in  the  divine  protection  to  guard  and 
guide  your  steps  whithersoever  you  go. 

I  fear  this  people  have  been  too  confident  of 
their  own  strength.  We  have  been  Eeady  to  say 
our  own  arms  shall  save  us  instead  of  looking  to 
the  God  of  Battle.  ...  I  shall  write  again  to- 
morrow knowing  you  will  not  be  tired  of  seeing 
the  signature  of  your  Beloved  & 

Affectionate 
82  MARCIA. 


THE  TESTIMONY  OF  LETTERS 

Dont  think  I  am  discouraged  .  .  .  when  I 
•write  my  thought  so  freely  &  fully.  I  seem  to 
feel  this  day  &  Evening  amidst  a  thousand  gloomy 
fears  as  if  our  God  was  about  to  Bring  us  deliver- 
ance by  means  which  we  cannot  foresee,  the  less 
we  have  to  hope  from  man  the  stronger  is  my 
confidence  in  Him  Who  presideth  over  the  Earth 
and  will  be  Glorify  d  in  His  doing,  and  many  times 
when  we  are  Eeady  to  say  with  peter  Lord  help  for 
we  are  sinking  then  is  His  arm  stretched  out  to 
save. 

To  judge  the  serious  and  weighty  character 
of  Mrs.  Warren's  letters,  it  is  necessary  to 
anticipate  the  events  of  her  life  and  view  her 
correspondence  as  a  whole.  It  was  when  she 
wrote  her  sons,  especially  her  son  Winslow, 
who  lived  long  abroad,  that  she  gave  full  sway 
to  her  besetting  vice  of  dwelling  upon  the  true 
and  the  beautiful  to  the  exclusion  of  all  the 
homely  affairs  of  life.  Winslow  grew  up  to  be 
a  handsome,  brilliant  young  man,  decidedly  his 
mother's  favorite.  At  least,  she  gave  him  that 
adoring  love,  mingled  with  pain,  which  belongs 
to  the  creature  of  shining  qualities  who  is 
especially  attracted  to  a  life  of  pleasure.  She 
displays  the  keenest  solicitude  lest  he  fall 
into  the  snares  lurking  everywhere  for  youth. 
She  asserts  again  and  again,  with  a  certain 
pitiful  whistling  to  keep  her  courage  up,  that 


MERCY   WARREN 

she  knows  he  will  not  be  attracted  by  sin ;  and 
then  she  refers  to  the  "solicitude  of  a  tender 
parent "  as  her  reason  for  continuing  in  page 
after  page  of  declamatory  moralizing,  which,  in 
all  respect  be  it  said,  no  merely  human  young 
man  could  be  expected  to  tolerate,  even  if  he 
were  so  filial  as  to  read  it.  Indeed,  that  as- 
pect of  the  case  occurs  to  her  also ;  and  after  ex- 
tended disquisitions  upon  nature  and  the  moral- 
ities, she  fancies  her  son  replying,  "Does  my 
Good  Mother  forget  that  too  much  Moralizing 
tires,  and  too  much  Reasoning  often  chills  the 
Mind  ?  "  This  is  pleasantry,  but  it  is  perti- 
nent to  the  case.  Even  when  she  descends  to 
what  is  for  her  a  very  light-minded  sort  of 
trifling,  she  proceeds  with  the  statclincss  of  a 
literary  minuet.  In  the  failure  of  letters,  she 
speculates  on  the  possibility  of  their  being 
lost  at  sea,  adding:  — 

"But  if  most  of  them  as  is  probable  are  Devoted 
to  the  Oozy  Nymphs  who  attend  the  Watry  God 
below  it  may  serve  as  an  Interlude  amidst  tlie 
Variety  of  political  packages  consigned  to  their 
perusal  in  these  Days  of  danger  and  uncertainty." 

This  is  grave  fooling,  and  not  entirely 
unconsidered ;  but  it  is  much  from  so  serious 
a  pen.  Fancy,  in  the  days  when  letters  were 
weeks  on  their  weary  passage  over  what  was 


THE  TESTIMONY  OF  LETTERS 

so  truly  the  "estranging  sea,"  taking  up 
a  closely  written  missive,  all  the  more  pre- 
cious for  having  achieved  so  stormy  a  flight, 
and  finding  it  a  homily  upon  spiritual  life! 
Scarcely  a  word  of  the  Plymouth  news,  the 
farm,  the  willow-trees  where  the  exile  cut  his 
whistles  when  a  boy ;  nothing  but  a  desire 
that  he  may  inherit  "  the  things  that  are  more 
excellent. "  The  father's  letters,  on  the  con- 
trary (for  he  in  his  simple  human  kindness  is 
always  quite  unconsciously  challenging  com- 
parison with  his  wife),  are  full  of  homely 
details;  and  especially  in  the  latter  part  of 
his  life,  when  he  writes  the  farm  news  to  his 
son  Henry,  does  his  account  of  the  pigs,  the 
ducks,  the  hoeing,  transport  the  reader  to 
the  very  spot,  and  make  him  long  with  the 
writer  for  a  much-needed  rain.  To  read  Mrs. 
Warren  at  what  she  would  consider  her  best, 
and  what  seems  to  us  her  very  worst  state  of 
literary  abandon,  one  need  not  go  further 
than  her  letter  "to  a  youth  just  entered  Col- 
ledge."  It  need  not  be  pursued  to  the  bit- 
ter end,  but  perhaps  we  shall  find  ourselves, 
like  Affery,  the  better  for  "  a  dose. "  It  was 
written  in  1772 :  — 

"If  my  dear  son  was  not  sensible  her  affection 
was  so  great  that  she  never  could  forget  him  while 
she   remembers   anything,   he   might   be   able    to 
85 


MERCY   WARREN 

suspect  it  from  the  late  unusual  silence  of  his 
mother;  but  a  variety  of  cares  united  with  an  in- 
different state  of  health,  since  you  last  left  me,  has 
prevented  by  renewed  precepts  to  endeavour  to 
fortify  the  mind  of  a  youth  who,  I  flatter  myself, 
is  well  disposed  against  the  snares  of  vice  and  the 
contagion  of  bad  example,  which  like  an  army  of 
scorpions  lie  in  wait  to  destroy.  —  I  do  not  much 
fear  that  I  shall  ever  be  subjected  to  much  disap- 
pointment or  pain  for  any  deviations  in  a  son  like 
yourself,  yet  when  I  consider  how  eassily  the  gen- 
erallity  of  youth  are  misled,  either  by  novel  opin- 
ions or  unprincipled  companions,  and  how  easily 
they  often  glide  into  the  path  of  folly  and  how 
imperceptibly  Jed  into  the  mazes  of  error,  I  tremble 
for  my  children.  Happy  beyond  expression  will 
you  be,  my  son,  if  amidst  the  laudable  prosperity 
of  youth  and  its  innocent  amusements :  you  ever 
keep  that  important  period  in  view  which  must 
wind  up  this  fleeting  existence,  and  land  us  on 
that  boundless  shore  where  the  profligate  can  no 
longer  soothe  himself  in  the  silken  dream  of  pleas- 
ure or  the  infidel  entertain  any  further  doubts  of 
the  immortality  of  his  deathless  soul.  May  the 
Great  Guardian  of  Virtue,  the  source,  the  fountain 
of  everlasting  truth  watch  over  and  ever  preserve 
you  from  the  baleful  walks  of  vice,  and  the  devi- 
ous and  not  less  baneful  track  of  the  bewildered 
sceptic. 

"  What  vigilance  is  necessary  when  the  solicita- 
tions of  thoughtless  companions  on  the  one  side, 


THE  TESTIMONY  OF  LETTERS 

and  the  clamour  of  youthful  passions  on  the  other, 
plead  for  deviations:  and  ever  stand  ready  to  ex- 
cuse the  highest  instances  of  indulgence  to  de- 
praved appetite.  If  you  escape  uncontaminated 
it  must  be  in  some  measure  by  learning  easily  to 
discriminate  between  the  unoffending  mirth  of  the 
generous  and  openhearted  and  the  designed  flighty 
vagaries  of  the  virulent  and  narrowminded  man." 

More  even  than  any  word  of  her  own  do 
the  letters  of  James  Warren,  while  he  is 
absent  at  Watertown,  disclose  the  estimation 
in  which  he  holds  his  wife's  intelligence,  and 
his  acquiescence  in  her  connection  with  public 
affairs.  There  is  no  question  of  withholding 
from  her  any  news  of  state,  except  it  be  of  a 
private  nature.  She  walks  step  by  step  with 
him.  He  trusts  her  discretion,  her  secrecy, 
her  judgment.  It  is  only  when  there  is  a  pos- 
sibility of  letters  miscarrying,  as  they  did 
miscarry  in  those  troublous  times,  that  he 
retains  some  piece  of  vital  news  until  he  shall 
see  her  and  communicate  it  by  word  of 
mouth. 

And  she  is  as  discreet  in  her  use  of  intel- 
ligence as  he  in  its  transmission.  All  are 
solicitous  to  know  what  he  writes  from  the 
seat  of  affairs,  she  informs  him;  but  she  is 
cautious.  "I  tell  them  you  are  too  much 
engaged  in  devising  means  for  their  salvation 

87 


MERCY   WARREN 

to  indulge  yourself  in  writing  so  much  as 
we  wish."  She  and  Mrs.  Adams  had  uncon- 
sciously succeeded  in  convincing  two  at  least 
of  the  first  men  of  the  time  that  women  need 
not  be  excluded  from  the  graver  matters  of 
life.  In  1776,  John  Adams  writes  Mrs.  War- 
ren, with  his  habitual  air  of  gallantry,  which 
by  no  means  proved  him  the  less  sincere :  — 

"The  Ladies  I  think  are  the  greatest  Politicians 
that  I  have  the  Honour  to  be  acquainted  with,  not 
only  because  they  act  upon  the  Sublimest  of  all 
the  Principles  of  Policy,  viz,  that  Honesty  is  the 
best  Policy  but  because  they  consider  Questions 
more  coolly  than  those  who  are  heated  with  Party 
Zeal  and  inflamed  with  the  bitter  Contentions  of 
active  public  life." 

Again,  after  pages  devoted  to  franK  discus- 
sion of  the  great  questions  of  the  Revolution, 
he  continues :  — 

"This  is  a  very  grave  and  solemn  Discourse  to 
a  Lady.  True,  and  I  thank  God,  that  his  Provi- 
dence has  made  me  Acquainted  with  two  Ladies 
at  least  who  can  bear  it." 

Like  all  those  actors  in  a  great  cause  who 
value  the  deed  and  care  not  who  bears  away 
the  palm,  John  Adams,  at  this  juncture,  is 
frankness  itself  in  confessing  his  need  of 
counsel.  He  is  constantly  besieging  James 


THE  TESTIMONY  OF  LETTERS 

Warren  with  a  running  fire  of  speculations 
and  hard  questions,  and  quite  as  a  matter  of 
course  he  includes  Mrs.  Warren  in  the  circle 
of  his  advisors.  One  letter  of  hers  in  answer 
to  a  forgotten  query  hints  prophetically  at  the 
beginning  of  those  fears  by  which  she  was  tor- 
mented when,  at  the  end  of  the  Revolution,  it 
seemed  as  if  America  might  forget  the  sim- 
plicity of  earlier  days. 

PLIMOUTH  March  10  1776 

DEAR  SIR,  — As  your  time  is  so  much  Devoted  to 
the  service  of  the  publick  that  you  have  little 
Leisure  for  letters  of  friendship  or  amusement, 
and  Conscious  of  Incapacity  to  write  anything 
that  would  be  of  the  smallest  utility  to  the  common 
weal,  I  have  been  for  some  time  Ballancing  in  my 
Mind  Whether  I  should  again  Interrupt  your 
Important  Moments,  but  on  Eeperusing  yours  of 
January  8,  I  find  a  query  unanswered.  And 
though  the  asking  my  opinion  in  so  momentous  a 
question  as  the  form  of  government  to  be  preferred 
by  a  people  who  have  an  opportunity  to  shake  off 
the  fetters  both  of  Monarchic  &  Aristocratic  Tyr- 
any  Might  be  Designed  to  Eidicule  the  sex  for 
paying  any  Attention  to  political  matters  yet  I 
shall  venture  to  give  you  a  serious  Reply.  And 
notwithstanding  the  Love  of  Dress,  Dancing,  Equi- 
page, Finery  &  folly  Notwithstanding  the  fondness 
for  fashion  predominating  so  strongly  in  the  female 
Mind,  I  hope  never  to  see  an  American  Mon- 


MERCY   WARREN 

archy,  However  fashionable  in  Europe  or  How- 
ever it  Might  Coencide  with  the  taste  for  Elegance 
and  pleasure  in  the  one  sex  or  cooperate  with  the 
Interests  or  passions  of  the  Other.  [I  have  Long 
Teenan  Admirer  of  a  Republican  lorm  of  Govern- 
ment.  And  was  convinced  even  before  I  saw  the 
Advantages  deliniated  in  so  Clear  &  Concise  a 
manner  by  your  masterly  pen  that  if  Established 
upon  the  Genuine  principles  of  equal  Liberty  it 
was  a  form  productive  of  Many  Excellent  qualities 
&  heroic  Virtues  in  Human  Nature  which  often 
lie  Dormant  for  want  of  opportunities  for  Exertion 
and  the  Heavenly  Spark  is  smothered  in  the  Cor- 
ruption of  Courts,  or  the  Lustre  obscured  in  the 
Pompous  Glare  of  Regal  pageantry.  .  .  .  However 
we  may  Indulge  the  pleasing  Eevery  and  Look 
forward  with  Delight  on  the  well  Compacted  Govern- 
ment &  Happy  Establishment  of  the  Civil  police 
of  the  united  Colonies  yet  with  you  sir  I  have  nrg; 
fears  that  American  Virtna  lias  Tint,  vat  Ttfiap.bed 
the  sublime  pitch  which  is  Necessary  to  Bafle  the 
arts  of  the  Designing  &  to  counteract  the  weakness" 
of  the  timid,  as  well  as  to  Resist  the  pecuniary 
teniptaFions  and  AnibJAimigWigTiPg  whir.b  will  arise 
in  the  Breasts  of  More  Noble  minded  &  exalted 
Individuals  if  not  Carefully  Guarded. 

But  Mrs.  Warren's  relation  to  her  husband 
happily  betrays  the  softer,  albeit,  as  it  might 
seem  to  her,  the  weaker  side  of  her  nature. 
The  letters  between  these  two  loving  souls 

90 


THE  TESTIMONY  OF  LETTERS 

disclose  that  which  draws  us  closer  to  the 
woman  than  we  are  ever  drawn  by  respect 
for  her  stately  presence.  We  penetrate  their 
inner  confidence  to  find  her  "  pure  womanly  " 
in  her  nervous  imaginings  and  apprehensions. 
She  was  unalterably  brave  and  even  stoical  in 
intention,  but  sometimes  only  by  dint  of  shut- 
ting her  teeth  and  holding  on.  A  creature  of 
fine  nervous  organization,  she  was  "capable  of 
fears."  Like  the  best  as  well  as  the  weaker 
of  her  sex,  she  was  cruelly  beset  by  the 
"vapours."  Hers  was  the  precursor  of  the 
American  type,  ready  heroically  for  an  emer- 
gency, able  to  stand  with  unmoved  face  in  the 
van  of  battle,  but  so  delicately  made  as  to 
become  the  prey  of  formless  dread  and  vague 
anticipation.  For  all  her  heroics,  Mercy  War- 
ren was  absolutely  feminine,  and  with  her  hus- 
band she  did  not  live  always  upon  the  high 
plane  of  intellectual  superiority.  It  was  her 
imagination  which  led  her  into  quagmires, 
and  she  had  no  hesitation  in  confessing  that 
she  did  a  deal  of  whistling  to  keep  her  cour- 
,  age  up.  Several  of  her  letters  are  inter- 
spersed with  pathetic  little  wailings  for  his 
absence. 
In  1775,  she  writes  from  Plymouth :  — 

"I  awaked  this  day  .  .  .  trembling  under  the 
agitations  of  a  frightful  dream  —  you  know  me  so 
91 


MERCY   WARREN 

well  I  should  not  be  afraid  of  being  called  super- 
stitious if  I  was  to  give  you  the  dream  and  my 
interpretation  thereof  —  but  I  will  only  tell  you 
I  could  not  but  reflect  .  .  .  whether  we  were  not 
arrived  at  that  difficult  strait  where  there  is  no 
passing  or  retreating  —  and  that  the  props  the  sup- 
ports &  the  strength  of  my  family  may  be  among 
the  first  who  sink  beneath  the  torrent  —  but  all 
Dreams  fancys  or  allegories  apart  —  I  seriously 
wish  there  was  any  equitable  decent  &  honourable 
method  devised  to  put  an  end  to  the  contest — 
and  be  again  reconciled  to  old  friends  —  not  that 
I  have  the  least  doubt  of  the  final  success  of  so 
righteous  a  Cause  —  but  I  Greatly  fear  some  of  the 
worthyest  characters  in  the  present  Generation 
will  fall  in  the  Conflict  —  and  perhaps  the  whole 
land  be  involved  in  blood." 

When,  in  1776,  General  Lee  fell  into  the 
hands  of  the  enemy,  she  was  depressed  indeed. 
Then  did  she  write  her  "  Dearest  Friend  " :  — 

"The  political  Clouds  at  the  southward  with 
the  Gathering  Blackness  towards  the  North  with 
the  stormy  appearance  of  the  Natural  World  at 
this  season  has  an  affect  upon  my  spirits,  timidity 
Vexation  Grief  &  Resentment  Alternately  rise  in 
my  disturbed  Bosom,  yet  I  struggle  to  Resume 
that  Dignity  of  Character  that  philosophic  &  Re- 
ligious Resignation  you  so  often  Recommend  till 
I  feel  the  Courage  of  an  Heroine  &  the  Intrepidity 
of  a  Roman  matron.  But  I  am  soon  dissolved  into 
92 


THE   TESTIMONY  OF  LETTERS 

weakness  when  I  Eecollect  that  the  Dissolution 
of  the  tenderest  ties  may  be  at  hand,  that  every 
social  joy  is  at  stake  &  that  I  may  be  left  a  naked 
helpless  Vine  without  the  Ceder  or  Its  Branch  to 
defend  me  from  the  Rude  storms  ...  on  the 
American  shores." 

James  Warren  was  precisely  the  man  to 
deal  with,  this  temperament,  —  a  nature  near 
the  good  brown  earth,  wholesome,  sweet,  and 
equable.  He  rallies  her  delicately  upon  her 
"  vapours. "  Thus  he  writes  her  from  Boston, 
June  6,  1779 :  — 

MY  DEAR  MERCY, — I  have  read  one  Excellent 
Sermon  this  day  &  heard  two  others,  what  next 
can  I  do  better  than  write  to  a  Saint,  what  if 
she  has  Trembling  Nerves  &  a  palpitating  Heart. 
She  has  good  Sense.  She  has  Exalted  Virtue  & 
refined  Piety.  She  is  amiable  even  in  that  weakness 
which  is  the  consequence  of  the  Exquisite  delicacy 
&  softness  of  her  sex.  she  would  be  so  to  me  if 
she  had  more  of  that  rough  fortitude  which  the 
Times  &  the  circumstances  pictured  in  her  Letter 
of  ye  2d  Instant  recd  Yesterday  may  seem  to  you 
to  require,  all  Nature  is  a  Mystery,  why  then 
should  I  attempt  to  explore  the  reasons,  &  to  say 
how  it  is  that  a  mind  possessed  of  a  Masculine 
Genius  well  stocked  with  learning  fortified  by 
Philosophy  &  Eeligion  should  be  so  easily  Im- 
pressed by  the  adverse  circumstances  or  Incon- 


MERCY   WARREN 

veniencys  of  this  world,  but  they  will  happen 
whether  we  can  account  for  it  or  not.  A  brilliant 
&  Busy  Imagination  often  if  not  always  accompanys 
great  qualities,  it  commands  admiration  but  is 
often  Mischievous,  &  when  yours  is  not  directed 
to  the  bright  side  of  things  I  often  wish  it  as 
sluggish  as  my  own.  but  I  long  to  Banter  & 
Laugh  you  out  of  your  Whimsical  Gloom.  What! 
want  Fortitude  because  I  have  Faith.  Curious 
indeed.  Be  unhinged  because  self  Interest  Wick- 
edness &  wicked  Men  abound,  when  was  it  other- 
wise, it  is  Glorious  to  defeat  them  and  after  all 
the  Struggle  what?  why  secure  to  ourselves  and 
entail  to  Posterity  Independence  Peace  &  Happi- 
ness, this  is  a  subject  for  an  Heroic  Poem,  rouse 
therefore  your  Muse.  Tune  it  with  Nervous  har- 
mony to  Celebrate  the  sweep  of  this  great  struggle 
&  the  Characters  of  those  whose  Integrity  &  Virtue 
have  defeated  the  Policy  &  Force  of  our  Enemies, 
&  above  all  that  Providence  by  whose  direction  I 
verily  believe  without  a  doubt  we  shall  be  saved. 

A  fragment,  written  in  1779,  is  to  the  same 
tune : — 

"I  am  glad  to  find  you  are  better,  but  strange 
it  is  how  you  suffer  your  Imagination  Instead  of 
giving  you  &  all  your  friends  delight  &  pleasure 
to  torment  you  with  anxious  fears  &  gloomy  appre- 
hensions &  by  that  means  give  your  Friends  Pain. 
Evils  there  are  in  the  world  &  will  attack  us  sooner 
or  later  but  certainly  our  anxieties  cant  avoid  or 
94 


THE  TESTIMONY  OF  LETTERS 

delay  them  .  .  .  We  have  no  sight  of  the  French 
Fleet  yet.  I  reed  last  evening  my  answer  to  a 
Billet  I  wrote  the  Admiral  ...  &  am  this  morn- 
ing to  have  a  T/isit  from  his  Excellency  so  I  must 
hasten  to  put  on  my  best  Bib,  for  our  Marine  Offi- 
cers who  dined  on  Bd  yesterday  I  believe  have  led 
him  to  expect  to  see  a  great  Man  ...  if  you  Love 
me  Enjoy  the  Goods  of  Providence  with  a  Chear- 
ful  Grateful  Mind  and  at  least  imagine  that  our 
Lines  are  in  a  pleasant  place." 

But  though  he  rallies  her,  it  is  not  through 
lack  of  apprehension.  On  April  2,  1780,  he 
writes  from  Boston :  — 

MY  DEAR  MERCY,  —  I  am  just  returned  from 
public  worship,  the  next  act  of  religion  is  to 
write  to  my  beloved  wife  .  .  .  Don't  however 
think  I  am  in  the  shades  of  gloom  &  despondency. 
I  see  &  find  difficulties  from  every  quarter  but  my 
faith  &  Hope  are  as  strong  as  ever.  .  .  .  When 
shall  I  hear  from  you.  My  affection  is  strong, 
my  anxieties  are  many  about  you.  you  are  alone, 
you  are  very  social,  your  sensations  are  strong, 
your  frame  is  delicate,  the  weather  is  cold  &c  &c. 
if  you  are  not  well  &  happy  how  can  I  be  so.  if 
you  are  few  things  can  make  me  otherwise. 

She  was  not  always  repining.  December 
29,  1776,  she  writes  him :  — 

"Man  is  a  strange  being  &  it  has  often  been 
said  that  Woman   is  a   still   more  unaccountable 
95 


MERCY   WARREN 

Creature :  I  know  not  how  it  is,  but  notwithstand- 
ing the  present  Gloomy  aspect  of  affairs  my  spirits 
do  not  flag  with  regard  to  the  great  public  cause : 
they  rather  rise  on  misfortune  —  I  some  how  or 
other  feel  as  if  all  these  things  were  for  the  best  — 
as  if  good  would  come  out  of  evil  —  we  may  be 
brought  low  that  our  faith  may  not  be  in  the 
wisdom  of  man  but  in  the  protecting  providence 
of  God." 

Often  as  she  flies  to  him  for  comfort  and  for 
strength,  so  often  does  she  reassure  him.  On 
March  29,  1790,  she  writes  urgently  from 
Plymouth,  begging  to  know  when  he  is  com- 
ing, and  adding:  "Yet  depend  upon  it,  I  be- 
have very  well  &  keep  up  my  spirits  remark- 
ably." "Do  not  let  your  mind  suffer  the 
smallest  anxiety  on  my  account." 

She  is  never  tired  of  showing  a  frank 
admiration  of  his  courage  and  ability.  She 
tells  him :  "  Your  spirit  I  admire  —  were  a  few 
thousands  on  the  Continent  of  a  similar  dis- 
position we  might  defy  the  power  of  Britain. " 

But  however  the  political  game  may  go,  she 
longs  continually  for  his  presence.  It  is  in 
1777  that  she  writes  him  from  "  Plimouth  " :  — 

"It  is  a  matter  of  equal  indifference  with  me 
whether  I  am  in  the  City  or  the  Villa  provided  I 
have  the  Company  of  that  man  of  whose  friendship 
96 


THE  TESTIMONY  OF  LETTERS 

I  have  had  more  than  twenty  years  Experience  & 
without  whom  Life  has  few  Charms  for  me." 

Only  secondary  to  her  desire  for  his  com- 
pany is  her  longing  for  letters.  June  1,  1777, 
she  writes  from  Plymouth :  — 

MY  DEAREST  FRIEXD,  —  What  a  Letter  every  day. 
yes  why  not.  I  wish  for  one  &  why  not  forward 
one  to  a  person  who  Loves  them  as  well  as  myself. 
Shall  I  go  on  &  give  a  Eeason  Ask  another  ques- 
tion &  then  answer  it  my  self.  yes.  why  then 
truly  they  are  not  Worth  so  much  stating  the  in- 
trinsic Value  of  both  taking  into  Consideration  the 
difference  of  your  situation  &  mine  your  superi- 
ority of  character  your  advantages  of  Intelligence 
and  the  Exchange  must  be  rated  at  Least  fifteen 
for  one.  I  own  the  paper  I  deal  in  is  Depreciated 
while  I  estimate  the  Returns  at  the  true  sterling 
value,  but  as  you  are  a  Generous  Dealer  you  will 
take  no  advantages  Least  you  soon  Eeduce  me  to 
bankruptcy  &  oblige  me  to  throw  up  my  pen  in 
despair. 

She  thinks  of  him  with  an  unchanging 
constancy.  She  begins  and  ends  her  year  in 
longing  for  him.  This,  on  December  30, 

1777:  — 

"  This  extream  Cold  Season  gives  me  great  Con- 
cern for  you  who  Can  so  illy  bear  the  severity  of 
Winter  more  especially  from  your  own  fireside 

7  97 


MERCY  WARREN. 

where  it  is  the  study  of  Every  one  to  make  you 
happy,  oh!  these  painful  absences,  ten  thousand 
anxieties  Invade  my  Bosom  on  your  account  & 
some  times  hold  my  Lids  waking  Many  hours  of 
the  Cold  &  Lonely  Night,  but  after  a  day  or  two 
has  succeeded  such  a  Restless  Night  &  no  111  tid- 
ings arrive,  my  Eestless  Bosom  is  again  hushed 
into  peace  &  I  can  calmly  hope  the  same  provi- 
dential Care  which  has  hitherto  protected  will  pre- 
serve your  Valuable  Life,  yet  when  I  reflect  how 
many  years  have  Rolled  over  our  heads  we  have 
Little  Reason  to  Expect  many  more  should  be 
added  to  the  Tale." 

To  return  to  the  beginning  of  the  struggle 
is  to  find  her  confiding  her  anxious  forebod- 
ings to  Mrs.  Macaulay  Graham:  — 

"Ere  this  reaches  your  hand  you  will  doubtless 
have  seen  the  resolves  of  the  provincial  &  the  re- 
sult of  the  Continental  Congress  —  perhaps  there 
never  was  any  human  law  to  which  mankind  so 
religiously  &  so  generally  adhered  as  the  Ameri- 
cans do  to  the  resolutions  of  those  assemblies  — 
and  now  a  firm  undaunted  persevering  people  with 
the  sword  half  drawn  from  the  scabbard  are  pa- 
tiently waiting  the  effects  of  those  measures.  .  .  . 
but  if  pacific  measures  do  not  soon  take  place  none 
can  wonder  that  a  timid  woman  should  tremble 
for  the  consequences  —  more  especially  one  con- 
nected by  the  tenderest  tie  to  a  gentleman  whose 
principles  &  conduct  in  this  province  may  expose 
98 


THE  TESTIMONY  OF  LETTERS 

him  to  fall  an  early  victim  either  in  the  day  of 
Battle  or  by  the  hand  of  vindictive  Power. 

"Will  you  pardon  me  Madam  if  I  own  that  my 
apprehensions  are  sometimes  awake  least  Britain 
should  be  infatuated  enough  to  push  the  unhappy 
Americans  to  the  last  appeal  —  I  behold  the  civil 
sword  brandished  over  our  heads  &  an  innocent 
land  drenched  in  blood  —  I  see  the  inhabitants 
of  our  plundered  cities  quitting  the  elegancies  of 
life,  possessing  nothing  but  their  freedom  —  taking 
refuge  in  the  forests  —  I  behold  faction  &  discord 
tearing  up  an  Island  we  once  held  dear  as  our  own 
inheritance  and  a  mighty  Empire  long  the  dread  of 
distant  nations,  tott'ring  to  the  very  foundation." 

And  then,  as  some  sort  of  intellectual  balm, 
she  begs  Mrs.  Graham  for  "the  indulgence  of 
a  few  more  of  your  excellent  sentiments  & 
judicious  observations." 


THE  WOMAN'S  PART 

WHILE  the  men  of  the  Colonies  were  risk- 
ing life  and  fortune  in  the  building  of  a 
nation,  the  women  were  bearing  as  uncom- 
plainingly the  great  burden  of  patience.  They 
frowned  upon  amusements  while  their  country 
should  be  in  anxious  mood.  They  forswore 
the  luxuries  of  every-day  life,  electing  to  be 
clad  in  homespun  rather  than  commerce  with 
the  British  market.  "I  hope,"  wrote  Mrs. 
Gushing,  "there  are  none  of  us  but  would 
sooner  wrap  ourselves  in  sheep  and  goat  skins 
than  buy  English  goods  of  a  people  who  have 
insulted  us  in  such  a  scandalous  manner." 
They  discountenanced  the  use  of  mourning, 
because  it  was  imported  from  England.  With 
their  families,  they  gave  up  eating  lamb  and 
mutton,  that  the  sheep  might  be  devoted  in- 
stead to  the  production  of  wool  for  clothing. 
When  the  time  came  for  battle,  they  not  only 
sacrificed  the  lead  of  window-panes,  but  their 
precious  pewter  to  the  making  of  bullets.  The 


THE   WOMAN'S  PART 

Daughters  of  Liberty  were  enrolling  them- 
selves, and  in  1769,  Hannah  Winthrop  writes 
Mrs.  Warren :  — 

"I  went  to  see  Mrs.  Otis  the  other  day.  She 
seems  not  to  he  in  a  good  state  of  health.  I 
received  a  Visit  lately  from  Master  Jemmy.  I  will 
give  you  an  anecdote  of  him.  A  gentleman  telling 
him  what  a  Fine  lady  his  mama  is  &  he  hoped  he 
would  he  a  good  Boy  &  behave  exceeding  well  to 
her,  my  young  Master  gave  this  spirited  answer, 
I  know  my  Mama  is  a  fine  Lady,  but  she  would 
be  a  much  finer  if  she  was  a  Daughter  of  Liberty." 

Thus  was  the  younger  generation  preparing 
to  fill  the  ranks  when  their  fathers  should 
fail  or  perish.  But  most  heroic  denial  of  all, 
these  women  of  the  Colonies  gave  up  their  cher- 
ished tea.  In  1768,  the  students  of  Harvard 
College  bound  themselves  to  use  no  more  of 
"that  pernicious  herb,"  and  they  were  not 
alone.  Scores  of  families  in  Boston  had  also 
agreed  to  forswear  it,  and  the  rage  for  holy 
abstinence  spread  until  invention  was  swift  to 
find  expedients  to  take  its  place.  A  sternness 
of  denial  sprang  up  everywhere  at  the  mention 
of  the  word  "  tea. "  In  1774,  John  Adams  writes 
his  wife  from  Falmouth  (Portland):  — 

''When  I  first  came  to  this  house  it  was  late 
in   the   afternoon,    and   I   had    ridden    thirty-five 
101 


MERCY  WARREN 

^  \y,  f miles  at  least.  'Madam,'  said  I  to  Mrs.  Huston, 
t  'is  it  lawful  for  a  weary  traveller  to  refresh  him- 
self with  a  dish  of  tea,  provided  it  has  been  hon- 
estly smuggled,  or  paid  no  duties?'  'No,  sir,' 
said  she,  '  we  have  renounced  all  tea  in  this  place, 
but  I  '11  make  you  coffee.'  Accordingly  I  have 
drank  coffee  every  afternoon  since  and  have  borne 
it  very  well.  Tea  must  be  universally  renounced, 
and  I  must  be  weaned,  and  the  sooner  the  better." 

The  ladies  especially,  like  those  of  a  later 
generation,  had  loved  their  tea  and  made  it 
the  enlivening  influence  at  stately  gatherings. 
Abigail  Adams,  when  abroad  with  her  hus- 
band, sighed  for  the  remembered  joys  of  those 
bygone  meetings,  and  Mrs.  Warren  replied  to 
her,  in  1785,  in  sympathetic  kind:  — 

"You  seem  to  wish  for  the  afternoon  interviews 
of  your  country,  which  custom  has  rendered  an 
agreeable  hour.  I  assure  you  we  miss  you  much 
at  the  little  tea  parties." 

The  continuance  of  denial  hardened  into  a 
national  habit.  We  became  a  nation  of  coffee 
drinkers,  —  a  state  of  things  not  at  all  to  be 
expected  from  our  English  fostering.  Dame 
Warren  was  not  sufficiently  addicted  to  gossip 
over  concrete  affairs  to  hint  at  her  own  stand 
in  the  matter.  She  never  tells  us  whether  she 
drank  Liberty  tea,  and  whether  at  Clifford 
102 


THE    WOMAN'S  PART     • 

Farm  she  went  out  to  gather  innocent  herbs, 
free  of  duty,  and  prepared  them  for  drying 
with  her  own  hands.  Neither  can  we  assert 
from  any  but  internal  evidence  that  she  made 
use  of  raspberry  leaves,  currant  or  sage,  the 
virtues  of  which  she  must  have  known.  But 
her  thorough-going  nature  was  not  one  to 
"come  tardy  off."  She  was  the  very  woman 
to  make  her  daily  cup  of  some  native  product, 
and  glory  in  the  drinking.  But  with  the 
great  tea-making  in  Boston  Harbor  she  had  an 
intimate  after-connection.  One  of  the  most 
telling  of  her  poems  born  of  public  events 
owes  its  inception  to  John  Adams,  and  his 
hearty  and  outspoken  delight  in  the  Boston 
Tea  Party.  On  December  22,  1773,  he  writes 
James  Warren  from  Boston:  — 

"Make  my  compliments  to  Mrs.  Warren  and 
tell  her  that  I  want  a  poetical  genius  —  to  describe 
the  late  Frolic  among  the  Sea  Nymphs  and  God- 
desses —  there  being  a  scarcity  of  Nectar  and  Am- 
brosia among  the  Celestials  of  the  Sea,  Neptune 
has  determined  to  substitute  Hyson  and  Congo 
and  for  some  of  the  inferiour  Divinities  Bohea. 
.  .  .  The  Syrens  should  be  introduced  somehow  I 
can't  tell  how  and  Proteus,  a  son  of  Neptune,  who 
could  sometimes  flow  like  Water,  and  sometimes 
burn  like  Fire,  bark  like  a  Dog,  howl  like  a  Wolf, 
wbine  like  an  Ape,  cry  like  a  Crocodile,  or  roar 
103 


MERCY  WARREN 

like  a  Lyon  —  But  for  want  of  this  same  Poetical 
Genius  I  can  do  nothing. — I  wish  to  see  a  late 
glorious  Event,  celebrated  by  a  certain  poetical 
Pen  which  has  no  equal  that  I  know  of  in  this 
Country." 

The  poetical  pen  was  ready,  and  it  is  easy 
to  imagine  the  haste  with  which  it  travelled ; 
for  the  subject  was  one  to  appeal  to  Mrs. 
Warren  in  every  requirement.  I  can  think 
of  no  form  of  last  resort  which  would  suit  her 
more  exactly.  The  baited  patriots  had  risen 
and  asserted  themselves.  Better  than  all  to 
her  mind,  they  had  risen  dramatically. 
Driven  to  the  wall,  they  had  turned  upon  their 
tyrants  and  treated  them  to  a  taste  of  the 
absolutely  unexpected.  It  was  a  challenging 
subject.  It  roused  her  to  something  more 
than  her  ordinary  classical  calm.  Yet  she 
does  not  propose  to  execute  the  friendly  com- 
mission blindfold.  On  the  nineteenth  of  Jan- 
uary, 1774,  she  writes  Mrs.  Adams :  — 

"  .  .  .  If  there  was  anybody  in  this  part  of  the 
World  that  could  sing  the  Eivals  Nymphs  &  Cele- 
brate the  Happy  Victory  of  Salacia  in  a  manner  that 
would  merit  Mr.  Adams  s  approbation  he  may  be 
assured  it  should  immediately  be  Attempted:  but 
I  think  a  person  who  with  two  or  three  strokes  of 
his  pen  has  sketched  out  so  fine  a  poetical  plan 
need  apply  only  to  his  own  Genius  for  the  Com- 

104 


THE    WOMAN'S  PART 

pletion.  but  if  he  thinks  it  would  be  too  great 
Condescension  in  him  to  Associate  much  with  the 
Muses  while  under  the  direction  of  Apollo  his 
time  is  so  much  more  usefully  &  importantly  fill  d 
up  a  particular  friend  of  his  would  be  glad  of  a 
Little  clearer  Explanation  of  some  of  his  Charac- 
ters she  not  being  well  Enough  Versed  in  ancient 
Mythology  to  know  who  is  meant  by  the  son  of 
Neptune  (who  can  so  easily  transform  himself  into 
the  Mischievous  of  every  species),  as  there  are 
several  modern  proteus  s  to  whom  this  docility  of 
temper  [is]  equally  applicable." 

She  is,  as  ever,  very  modest  about  display- 
ing her  effusion,  and  it  is  only  after  Mrs. 
Adams  has  begged  her  for  something  "  in  the 
poetical  way"  that  on  February  27,  1774, 
she  is  emboldened  to  send  her  two  friends  a 
"  piece  "  formed  as  nearly  as  possible  on  the 
lines  marked  out  by  Mr.  Adams,  explaining 
that  she  would  have  done  it  before,  save  that 
she  had  hoped  he  would  write  further  in  re- 
gard to  his  tutelar  deities.  She  says:  — 

tt  [I]  must  insist  that  this  falls  under  the  obser- 
vation of  none  else  till  I  hear  how  it  stands  the 
inspection  of  Mr  Adams  s  judicial  eye,  for  I  will 
not  trust  the  partiallity  of  my  own  sex  so  much 
as  to  rely  on  Mre  Adams  judgment  though  I  know  . 
her  to  be  a  Lady  of  taste  &  Decernment.  If  Mr 
Adams  thinks  it  deserving  of  any  further  Notice 


MERCY  WARREN 

&  he  will  point  out  the  faults  which  doubtless  are 
many,  they  may  perhaps  be  corrected,  when  it 
shall  be  at  his  service.  If  he  is  silent  I  shall  con- 
sider it  as  a  certain  Mark  of  disapprobation,  &  in 
despair  will  for  the  future  lay  aside  the  pen  of  the 
poet  (which  ought  perhaps  to  have  been  done 
sooner)  though  not  that  of  the  Friend  —  which 
I  Look  upon  as  much  the  most  amiable  &  Distin- 
guish d  Character." 

To  John  Adams,  what  she  does  still  bet- 
ters what  is  done.  This  was,  as  usual,  beyond 
praise,  and  he  writes  James  Warren :  — 

BOSTON,  April  9,  1774. 

DR  SIR,  —  It  is  a  great  mortification  to  me  to 
be  obliged  to  deny  myself  the  Pleasure  of  a  Visit 
to  my  Friends  at  Plymouth  next  Week.  — But  so 
Fate  has  ordained  it.  —  I  am  a  little  Apprehensive 
too  for  the  State  upon  this  Occasion  for  it  has 
heretofore  received  no  small  advantage  from  our 
Sage  deliberations  at  your  Fireside.  I  hope  Mrs. 
Warren  is  in  fine  Health  and  Spirits  —  and  that 
I  have  not  incurred  her  Displeasure  by  making 
so  free  with  the  Skirmish  of  the  Sea  Deities  — 
one  of  the  most  incontestible  Evidences  of  real 
Genius,  which  has  yet  been  exhibited  —  for  to 
take  the  Clumsy,  indigested  Conception  of  another 
and  work  it  into  so  elegant  and  classicall  a  Com- 
position, requires  Genius  equall  to  that  which 

106 


THE    WOMAN'S  PART 

•wrought  another  most  beautifull  Poem,  out  of  the 
little  Incident  of  a  Gentlemans  clipping  a  Lock 
of  a  Ladys  Hair,  with  a  Pair  of  scissors. 

His  wife  had  heralded  the  news  of  the  tea- 
party,  though  with  no  poetical  embroidery. 
On  the  fifth  of  December  she  had  written  Mrs. 
Warren  words  which  rose  at  the  end  into  an 
exultant  cry :  — 

"...  The  tea  that  bainful  weed  is  arrived. 
Great  and  I  hope  effectual  opposition  has  been 
made  to  the  landing  of  it  —  To  the  publick  papers 
I  nmst  refer  you  for  particulars  —  you  will  there 
find  that  the  proceedings  of  our  citizens  have  been 
united  spirited  and  firm  —  The  flame  is  kindled 
and  like  lightning  it  catches  from  soul  to  soul." 

Mrs.  Warren's  poem  is  headed  "  The  Squab- 
ble of  the  Sea  Nymphs :  or  the  Sacrifice  of  the 
Tuscararoes." 

Bright  Phoebus  drove  his  rapid  car  amain, 
And  plung'd  his  steeds  beyond  the  western  plain, 
Behind  a  golden  skirted  cloud  to  rest. 
Ere  ebon  night  had  spread  her  sable  vest, 
And  drawn  her  curtain  o'er  the  fragrant  vale, 
Or  Cynthia's  shadows  dress'd  the  lonely  dale, 
The  heroes  of  the  Tuscararo  tribe, 
Who  scorn'd  alike  a  fetter  or  a  bribe, 
In  order  rang'd  and  waited  freedom's  nod, 
To  make  an  offering  to  the  wat'ry  god. 

Grey  Neptune  rose,  and  from  his  sea  green  bed, 
He  wav'd  his  trident  o'er  his  oozy  head ; 
107 


MERCY  WARREN 

He  stretch'd,  from  shore  to  shore,  his  regal  wand, 
And  hade  the  river  deities  attend  ; 
Triton's  hoarse  clarion  summon'd  them  by  name, 
And  from  old  ocean  call'd  each  wat'ry  dame. 

In  council  met  to  regulate  the  state, 
Among  their  godships  rose  a  warm  debate, 
What  luscious  draught  they  next  should  substitute, 
That  might  the  palates  of  celestials  suit, 
As  Nectar's  stream  no  more  meandering  rolls, 
The  food  ambrosial  of  their  social  bowls 
Profusely  spent ;  —  nor,  can  Scamander's  shore, 
Yield  the  fair  sea  nymphs  one  short  banquet  more. 

The  Titans  all  with  one  accord  arous'd, 
To  travel  round  Columbia's  coast  propos'd  ; 
To  rob  and  plunder  every  neighb'ring  vine, 
(Regardless  of  Nemisis'  sacred  shrine ;) 
Nor  leave  untouch'd  the  peasant's  little  store, 
Or  think  of  right,  while  demi  gods  have  power. 

But  nymphs  and  goddesses  fell  into  squab- 
bling over  the  brand  of  drink  to  be  preferred. 

'Till  fair  Salacia  perch'd  upon  the  rocks, 
The  rival  goddess  wav'd  her  yellow  locks, 
Proclaim'd,  hysonia  shall  assuage  their  grief, 
With  choice  souchong,  and  the  imperial  leaf. 

The  champions  of  the  Tuscararan  race, 
(Who  neither  hold,  nor  even  wish  a  place, 
While  faction  reigns,  and  tyranny  presides, 
t  And  base  oppression  o'er  the  virtues  rides  ; 
While  venal  measures  dance  in  silken  sails, 
And  avarice  o'er  earth  and  sea  prevails  ; 
While  luxury  creates  such  mighty  feuds, 
E'en  in  the  bosoms  of  the  demi  gods ;) 
Lent  their  strong  arm  in  pity  to  the  fair, 
To  aid  the  bright  Salacia's  generous  care  ; 
108 


THE    WOMAN'S  PART 

Pour'd  a  profusion  of  delicious  teas, 
Which,  wafted  by  a  soft  favonian  breeze, 
Supply'd  the  wat'ry  deities,  in  spite 
Of  all  the  rage  of  jealous  Amphytrite. 

The  fair  Salacia,  victory,  victory,  sings, 
In  spite  of  heroes,  demi  gods,  or  kings ; 
She  bids  defiance  to  the  servile  train, 
The  pimps  and  sycophants  of  George's  reign. 

The  crying  question  of  the  day  becomes, 
"  What  can  we  do  without  ? "  And  Mrs. 
Warren  appears  with  her  pertinent  occasional 
poem :  "  To  the  Hon.  J.  Winthrop,  Esq.  Who, 
on  the  American  Determination,  in  177Jft  to 
suspend  all  Commerce  with  Britain,  (except  for 
the  real  Necessaries  of  life)  requested  a  poetical 
List  of  the  Articles  the  Ladies  might  comprise 
under  that  Head. " 

It  is  in  her  customary  vein  of  satire.  She 
inquires :  — • 

But  what 's  the  anguish  of  whole  towns  in  tears, 
Or  trembling  cities  groaning  out  their  fears  ? 
The  state  may  totter  on  proud  ruin's  brink, 
The  sword  be  brandish *d  or  the  bark  may  sink ; 
Yet  shall  Clarissa  check  her  wanton  pride, 
And  lay  her  female  ornaments  aside  ? 
Quit  all  the  shining  pomp,  the  gay  parade, 
The  costly  trappings  that  adorn  the  maid  ? 
What !  all  the  aid  of  foreign  looms  refuse  ! 
(As  beds  of  tulips  strip'd  of  richest  hues, 
Or  the  sweet  bloom  that 's  nip'd  by  sudden  frost, 
Clarissa  reigns  no  more  a  favorite  toast.) 
For  what  is  virtue,  or  the  winning  grace, 
Of  soft  good  humour,  playing  round  the  face ; 
109 


MERCY  WARREN 

Or  what  those  modest  antiquated  charms, 
That  lur'd  a  Brutus  to  a  Portia's  arms ; 
Or  all  the  hidden  beauties  of  the  mind, 
Compar'd  with  gauze,  and  tassels  well  combin'd  ? 

But  does  Helvidius,  vigilant  and  wise, 
Call  for  a  schedule,  that  may  all  comprise  ? 
'T  is  so  contracted,  that  a  Spartan  sage, 
Will  sure  applaud  th'  economizing  age. 

But  if  ye  doubt,  an  inventory  clear, 
Of  all  she  needs,  Lamira  offers  here  ; 
Nor  does  she  fear  a  rigid  Cato's  frown, 
When  she  lays  by  the  rich  embroider'd  gown, 
And  modestly  compounds  for  just  enough  — 
Perhaps,  some  dozens  of  more  flighty  stuff ; 
With  lawns  and  lustrings  —  blond,  and  mecklin  laces, 
Fringes  and  jewels,  fans  and  tweezer  cases  ; 
Gay  cloaks  and  hats,  of  every  shape  and  size, 
Scarfs,  cardinals,  and  ribbons  of  all  dyes  ; 
With  ruffles  stamp'd,  and  aprons  of  tambour, 
Tippets  and  handkerchiefs,  at  least  three  score  ; 
With  finest  muslins  that  fair  India  boasts, 
And  the  choice  herbage  from  Chinesan  coasts  ; 
(But  while  the  fragrant  hyson  leaf  regales, 
Who  '11  wear  the  homespun  produce  of  the  vales  ? 
For  if  't  would  save  the  nation  from  the  curse 
Of  standing  troops ;  or,  name  a  plague  still  worse, 
Few  can  this  choice  delicious  draught  give  up, 
Though  all  Medea's  poisons  fill  the  cup.) 
Add  feathers,  furs,  rich  sattius,  and  ducapes, 
And  head  dresses  in  pyramidial  shapes ; 
Side  boards  of  plate,  and  porcelain  profuse, 
With  fifty  dittos  that  the  ladies  use. 

But  though  your  wives  in  fripperies  are  dress'd, 
And  public  virtue  is  the  minion's  jest, 
America  has  many  a  worthy  name, 
Who  shall,  hereafter,  grace  the  rolls  of  fame. 
110 


THE   WOMAN'S  PART 

Her  good  Cornelias,  and  her  Arrias  fair, 

Who,  death,  in  its  most  hideous  forms,  can  dare, 

Bather  than  live  vain  fickle  fortune's  sport, 

Amidst  the  panders  of  a  tyrant's  court ; 

With  a  long  list  of  gen'rous,  worthy  men, 

Who  spurn  the  yoke,  and  servitude  disdain ; 

Who  nobly  struggle  in  a  vicious  age, 

To  stem  the  torrent  of  despotic  rage ; 

Who  leagu'd,  in  solemn  covenant  unite, 

And  by  the  manes  of  good  Hampden  plight, 

That  while  the  surges  lash  Britannia's  shore, 

Or  wild  Ni'gara's  cataracts  shall  roar, 

And  Heaven  looks  down,  and  sanctifies  the  deed, 

They  '11  fight  for  freedom,  and  for  virtue  bleed. 

The  necessity  for  abstinence  and  denial 
went  into  all  the  affairs  of  life.  The  question 
of  active  patriotism  had  little  to  do  with 
abstractions.  It  was  no  small  thing  for  men 
with  families  whom  they  dearly  loved  to 
pledge  not  only  their  lives  and  sacred  honor 
but  their  fortunes  to  the  chances  of  the  time. 
Every  patriot  who,  like  John  and  Samuel 
Adams,  James  Warren,  and  all  that  great 
company,  relinquished  ease  and  preferment, 
judging  the  choice  to  be  sweet  and  commend- 
able, took  the  step  deliberately,  knowing  how 
absolutely  they  risked  their  chances  of  stand- 
ing well  with  the  gods  of  time  and  place. 
John  Adams  left  Abigail  at  Braintree  to  carry 
on  the  farm.  James  Warren  left  Mercy  at 
Plymouth,  and  spent  his  time  at  Watertown 
and  Cambridge.  Both  the  husbands  congrat- 


MERCY  WARREN 

ulate  themselves  that  the  wheels  of  domestic 
empire  run  so  smoothly  during  their  absence ; 
and  General  Warren  takes  delight  in  writing 
Adams  at  Philadelphia  that  he  has  stopped  to 
call  on  Mrs.  Adams  on  his  way  to  Watertown, 
and  that  he  never  saw  the  farm  looking  better. 
She  was  an  excellent  manager.  Samuel 
Adams  daily  made  the  choice  of  poverty,  and 
the  burden,  perhaps,  rested  more  heavily  on 
his  wife  than  on  himself;  for  it  was  only 
through  her  thrift  that  the  family  had  food  to 
eat  or  clothes  for  its  back.  So  the  catalogue 
of  privation  might  be  continued.  Wherever 
there  existed  active  patriotism,  there  lived 
also  danger  of  suffering  and  denial,  for  women 
as  for  men. 

But  there  was  one  peril  more  actual  even 
than  tha,t  of  hunger  or  cold.  When  offensive 
and  defensive  operations  had  begun,  it  became 
evident  that  the  scene  of  action  might  shift; 
and  no  woman  felt  for  a  moment  sure  that 
her  roof  was  safe  over  her  head.  One  of  those 
who  shared  the  flight  from  Cambridge  after 
the  battle  of  Lexington  was  Hannah  Win- 
throp,  who  had  lived  so  near  the  seat  of  war 
that  the  first  shock  and  tumult  left  her  cov- 
ered with  dust  and  smoke.  After  that  dread- 
ful day  she  writes  Mercy  Warren  a  letter, 
which  is  very  intense  in  this  significant 
112 


TEE   WOMAN'S  PART 

portion,  through  its  picturesque  and  dramatic 
simplicity :  — 

•'Nor  can  she  ever  forget,  nor  will  old  Time  ever 
erase  the  horrors  of  the  midnight  Cry  preceeding 
the  Bloody  Massacre  at  Lexington,  when  we  were 
roused  from  the  henign  slumbers  of  the  season,  by 
heat  of  drum  &  ringing  of  Bell,  with  the  dire 
alarm  That  a  thousand  of  the  Troops  of  George 
the  third  were  gone  forth  to  murder  the  peaceful 
inhabitants  of  the  surrounding  villages.  A  few- 
hours  with  the  dawning  day  Convinced  us  the 
bloody  purpose  was  executing.  The  platoon  firing 
assuring  us  the  rising  sun  must  witness  the  Bloody 
Carnage.  Not  knowing  what  the  event  would  be 
at  Cambridge  at  the  return  of  these  bloody  ruf- 
fians, and  seeing  another  Brigade  despatched  to 
the  Assistance  of  the  former,  Looking  with  the 
ferocity  of  barbarians,  it  seemd  necessary  to  re- 
tire to  some  place  of  safety  till  the  calamity  wass 
passd.  My  partner  had  been  a  fortnight  confind 
by  illness.  After  dinner  we  set  out  not  knowing 
whither  we  went,  we  were  directed  to  a  place  calld 
fresh  pond  about  a  mile  from  tlie  town  but  what  a 
destressd  house  did  we  find  there  filld  with  women 
whose  husbands  were  gone  forth  to  meet  the  Assail- 
iants,  70  or  80  of  these  with  numbers  of  infant  chil- 
dren crying  and  agonizing  for  the  Fate  of  their 
husbands.  In  addition  to  this  scene  of  distress  we 
were  for  some  time  in  sight  of  the  Battle,  the 
glistening  instruments  of  death  proclaiming  by 
8  113 


MERCY   WARREN 

an  incessant  fire,  that  much  blood  must  be  shed, 
that  many  \vidowd  &  orphand  ones  be  left  as 
monuments  of  that  persecuting  Barbarity  of  Brit- 
ish Tyranny.  Another  uncomfortable  night  we 
passd  some  nodding  in  their  Chairs,  others  rest- 
ing their  weary  limbs  on  the  floor.  The  welcome 
harbingers  of  day  give  notice  of  its  dawning  light 
but  brings  us  news  it  is  unsafe  to  return  to  Cam- 
bridge, as  the  enemy  were  advancing  up  the  river 
&  firing  on  the  town,  to  stay  in  this  place  was  im- 
practicable. .  .  .  Thus  with  precipitancy  were  we 
driven  to  the  town  of  Andover,  following  some  of 
our  Acquaintances,  five  of  us  to  be  Conveyd  with 
one  poor  tired  horse  &  chaise.  Thus  we  began 
our  passage  alternately  walking  and  riding,  the 
roads  filld  with  frighted  women  &  Children  Some 
in  carts  with  their  tatterd  furniture,  others  on  foot 
fleeing  into  the  woods.  But  what  added  greatly 
to  the  horror  of  the  scene  was  our  passing  thro  the 
Bloody  field  at  Menotomy  which  was  strewd  with 
the  mangled  Bodies.  We  met  one  affectionate 
Father  with  a  Cart  looking  for  his  murdered  son 
&  picking  up  his  Neighbours  who  had  fallen  in 
Battle,  in  order  for  their  Burial." 

She  begs  Mrs.  Warren  to  depict  the  "mov- 
ing scene  "  with  her  "  poetic  pencil. "  But  no 
pencil  of  whatever  sort  could  work  with  half 
the  effect  of  this  graphic  eye-witness. 

These  years  brought  a  constant  series  of 
apprehensions  even  for  those  at  home.  Ply  ra- 
in 


THE    WOMAN'S  PART 

outh,  though  far  from  the  seat  of  war,  was 
not  exempt  from  fear.  In  1775,  Mrs.  Warren 
writes  "  Mrs.  Temple  Lady  of  Robert  Temple, 
Esq.,"  that  an  attack  is  expected  at  Plymouth, 
though  she  feels  that  the  comparative  insig- 
nificance of  the  town  will  be  its  protection. 
But  the  general  nervousness  continues.  Again 
she  writes  Mrs.  Lothrop,  at  Fairfield,  that  the 
town  had  grown  into  a  confusion  of  fear ;  but 
that  she  herself  had  never  thought  Plymouth 
would  be  one  of  the  first  points  of  attack  to 
the  enemy  when  there  were  a  hundred  places 
more  important.  Consequently,  in  the  midst 
of  the  confusion,  she  had  reassured  her  family, 
and,  without  taking  the  trouble  to  move  her 
goods  to  a  place  of  safety,  as  her  neighbors 
were  doing,  she  had  set  out  that  day  to  visit 
her  husband  at  headquarters.  Imagine  the 
stately  dame,  "calm  amid  difficulties,"  con- 
tinuing her  household  duties,  and  then  tran- 
quilly carrying  out  her  plans  as  if  the  enemy 
were  not  at  the  door!  But  rumor  grew  so  hot 
that  even  she  had  to  concede  something  to 
prudence.  She  writes  her  husband :  — 

PLIMOUTH  May  3  1775 

Yours  of  the  12  instant  received  this  morning 
was  a  Cordial  to  my  mind  though  be  assured  my 
spirits  are  on  as  high  a  key  as  can  be  expected  at  a 

115 


MERCY   WARREN 

time  when  so  many  of  my  fellow  creatures  &  par- 
ticularly such  a  number  of  my  friends  are  in  dis- 
tress: and  though  you  are  likely  to  be  detained 
longer  than  we  expected  I  will  console  myself  with 
the  hope  that  you  will  be  instrumental  in  the  hand 
of  providence  to  promote  the  peace  the  Glory  &  the 
happiness  of  your  Country:  and  notwithstanding 
my  painful  apprehensions  I  pass  my  days  in  a  con- 
siderable degree  of  cheerfulness  &  at  night  repose 
myself  trusting  in  him  who  alone  maketh  us  to 
dwell  in  safety  —  I  awake  refreshed  with  quiet 
slumbers :  though  greatly  concerned  for  the  safety 
of  my  dear  husband:  I  feel  a  Confidence  that 
heaven  will  protect  &  Guard  his  precious  life  that 
we  may  be  prepared  for  all  that  is  before  us  is  con- 
stantly &  fervently  breathed  from  my  heart.  —  I 
have  written  to  Mr  Hitchcock  to  take  two  of  our 
sons  but  he  declining  the  charge  am  at  a  loss  where 
to  apply  next  —  I  shall  send  a  part  of  your  prop- 
erty to  some  place  of  safety  this  week — and  shall 
do  everything  in  my  power  for  the  interest  &  safety 
of  your  family :  and  would  not  have  you  add  to  the 
load  of  your  cares  a  too  great  anxiety  for  your  wife 
&  children.  If  the  public  service  can  be  promoted 
by  your  making  a  journey  to  Conneticut  I  will 
not  make  the  least  objection  to  your  going.  I  need 
not  say  how  tedious  is  your  absence :  but  the  Great 
Lessons  of  self  denial  and  resignation  are  what  the 
present  Generation  are  admonished  to  learn  —  I 
think  it  no  arogauce  to  say  few  men  are  better 
qualified  for  such  an  important  embassy  therefore 

116 


THE   WOMAN'S  PART 

let  your  concern  for  me  be  no  hindrance :  &  if  it 
will  be  any  inducement  to  you  to  go  on  this  Dele- 
gation I  will  arrange  my  affairs  at  home  so  as  to 
leave  them  with  convenience  &  meet  you  at  provi- 
dence &  accompany  you  on  your  journey.  — 

The  important  question  you  mentioned  as  pre- 
venting your  leaving  Congress  yesterday  leads  me 
to  offer  my  thoughts  on  the  perplexed  state  of  af- 
fairs —  I  think  such  a  question  should  not  be  agi- 
tated untill  you  have  a  new  Choice  of  Delegates  — 
if  anything  of  that  nature  is  done  it  ought  to  be 
in  full  assembly  —  in  an  assembly  of  men  of  judg- 
ment integrity  &  fortune  —  for  nothing  perma- 
nent or  that  will  give  general  satisfaction  can  be 
done  with  regard  to  that  matter  unless  there  are 
a  considerable  number  of  men  of  property  to  give 
consequence  to  the  measure,  men  of  this  descrip- 
tion ought  not  to  sit  still  at  home  when  every  thing 
is  afloat  —  do  you  not  think  as  Congress  has  been 
weakened  by  calling  of  several  of  its  active  mem- 
bers to  other  departments  it  would  be  best  to  supply 
their  places  by  a  speedy  appointment  of  fresh  hands 
—  for  if  by  a  little  too  much  precipitation  in  so 
great  an  affair — or  if  by  making  an  effort  when 
you  have  not  sufficient  strength  to  carry  it  through : 
and  the  movement  should  thereby  prove  unsuc- 
cessful it  would  have  been  better  never  to  have 
attempted  it  —  but  believe  all  will  agree  that  it 
ought  to  be  postponed  no  longer  than  the  thirty 
first  instant.  — 

I  am  not  about  to  obtrude  my  opinion  or  advice, 
117 


MERCY  WARREN 

am  sensible  my  judgment  is  too  weak :  yet  consid- 
ering the  difficult  &  perplexed  state  of  affairs  I 
think  every  one  who  is  capable  of  any  reflection 
should  divulge  their  sentiments:  which  may  be 
rejected  if  purile  &  indigested:  or  improved  to 
advantage  if  they  contain  any  hint  that  can  con- 
tribute to  general  utility.  — 

Your  son  Winslow  the  bearer  of  this  has  so 
great  a  desire  to  see  the  American  army  that  I 
thought  proper  to  consent :  as  I  supposed  it  would 
have  no  111  Effect  upon  his  millitary  disposition 
but  would  have  him  return  as  soon  as  possible  — 
by  your  son  you  will  let  me  know  if  I  must  en- 
gage the  house  at  taunton  as  it  is  likely  to  be 
taken  up  by  the  inhabitants  of  Boston  —  Your 
advice  in  every  step  is  requested  by  your 

affectionate  M  WARREN- 

since  the  above  have  heard  a  number 
of  Marines  are  landed  at  Boston  and 
a  formidable  body  of  British  troops  near 
at  hand  — 

There  is  something  in  that  agitated  post- 
script which,  even  after  so  many  days,  is 
calculated  to  stir  the  blood.  Not  so  did  Mrs. 
Warren  write  in  her  moments  of  ease ! 

Four  days  later  her  husband  writes  John 
Adams  from  Watertown:  — 

"  After  I  had  Executed  my  Commission  at  Provi- 
dence I  returned  Home  set  Mrs.  Warren  down  in 
118 


THE    WOMAN'S  PART 

her  own  habitation,  made  the  last  provision  I  could 
for  the  security  of  our  Family  and  some  of  our 
Effects  which  we  Considered  to  be  not  very  safe  at 
Plymouth.  &  I  Immediately  hastened  to  this 
place  in  order  to  Contribute  my  mite  to  the  pub- 
lick  service  in  this  Exigence  of  affairs.  ...  I 
could  for  myself  wish  to  see  your  Friends  "Wash- 
ington &  Lee  at  the  Head  of  it  [the  army]  & 
yet  dare  not  propose  it  though  I  have  it  in  Con- 
templation." 

But  though  Mrs.  Warren  was  more  tranquil 
in  the  circumstances  of  her  life  than  certain 
other  women  of  the  time,  she  suffered  much 
from  loneliness. 

"I  shall  soon  be  impatient  to  hear  from  you," 
she  writes  her  husband,  "and  more  so  to  see  you 
—  remind  our  friends  to  write  often.  Tell  Dr. 
Winthrop  I  long  to  be  at  their  social  fire  side  lis- 
tening to  the  delightful  Voice  of  real  friendship 
and  the  language  of  philosophy." 

Her  husband  was  often  with  the  Winthrops ; 
for  they  lived  at  Cambridge,  whither  his  duties 
led  him. 

The  moment  never  comes  when  he  can  leave 
Madame  Mercy  for  a  stay  at  Watertown  or 
Cambridge  without  taking  her  heart  with  him. 
In  his  absence  she  is  desolate  indeed.  On 
December  11,  1775,  she  writes  Mrs.  Adams: 


MERCY   WARREN 

"You  have  sisters  at  Hand  &  Many  Agreeable 
friends  around  you  which  I  have  not.  I  have  not 
seen  a  friend  of  an  afternoon  Nor  spent  one  abroad 
Except  once  or  twice  I  Kode  out  since  I  came  from 
Braintree." 

Mrs.  Adams  occasionally  visits  her  at 
Plymouth;  but  there  is  always  a  longer  or 
shorter  stop  at  Braintree  when  Mrs.  Warren 
goes  to  Watertown  for  a  stay  with  her  hus- 
band. The  two  stop  over,  if  not  for  a  visit, 
for  a  friendly  call,  and  then  there  is  warm  ex- 
change, not  only  of  sentiments,  but  the  tragic 
knowledge  of  the  times.  July  14,  1775,  Mrs. 
Warren  writes  her  Portia  relative  to  a  little 
visit  which  she  has  just  made  at  Braintree, 
and  she  wonders  how  it  could  have  been  so 
tranquil  in  the  midst  of  war  and  alarm. 
(They  were  getting  the  habit  of  daily  mis- 
fortune, these  patriots !)  But  the  conclusion 
is  the  thing,  — pregnant  betrayal  of  her  ever- 
present  impatience  under  inaction.  "Every- 
thing is  Hostile,"  she  says,  "yet  Nothing 
Vigorous."  She  would  have  had  her  country's 
enemies  slain  and  buried  without  undue  dis- 
crimination. That  entire  year  was  a  grievous 
one,  full  of  alarms  and  confusion,  even  with  the 
drawback  of  "  nothing  vigorous. "  Mrs.  War- 
ren did  not  always  find  Plymouth  a  peaceful 
resort  when  she  unwillingly  left  her  "friend  " 


THE    WOMAN'S  PART 

and  returned  to  her  lonely  "habitation."    She 
writes  thence,  September  11,  1775 :  — 

"I  arrived  in  safety  at  my  own  Habitation  & 
found  my  family  in  Health  though  sickness  rages 
around  us  and  Death  has  been  knocking  at  the 
doors  of  my  Nearest  Neighbours.  The  uncommon 
Mortality  which  everywhere  prevails  is  a  Dark 
frown  of  Heaven  upon  the  Land." 

Mrs.  Warren  was  said  by  her  contempora- 
ries to  have  been  a  mistress  of  social  grace, 
and  especially  of  the  elusive  charm  of  con- 
versation. A  eulogy  of  the  time  thus  bears 
testimony :  — 

"Her  talents  as  a  writer  were  exceeded  by  her 
powers  of  conversation.  In  the  charms  and  graces 
of  this  amiable  art  she  was  surpassed  by  none. 
Grave  or  playful,  serious  or  facetious,  as  the  sub- 
ject or  the  occasion  required;  imposing  restraint 
only  upon  indecorum,  and  inspiring  modest  merit 
with  confidence;  copious  in  expression,  complacent 
in  manner,  clear  in  argument,  uniform  in  elegance, 
varying  in  grace,  and  never  forgetful  of  the  dig- 
nity of  her  sex  and  character,  she  charmed  or  be- 
guiled into  silence  and  approbation,  those  whom 
she  failed  to  persuade  or  convince." 

Yet  with  so  many  incentives  to  the  delights 
of  a  social  life,  she  seemed  to  be  little  inter- 
ested in  the  amusements  in  Watertown;  but 
121 


MERCY  WARREN 

that  is  only  because  she  cared  so  passionately 
for  the  society  of  her  "friend."  Moreover, 
the  times  were  too  grave  for  much  social 
beguilement.  No  woman  could  give  her  mind 
to  gayety  while  Rome  was  burning.  Grave 
speculations  occupied  her  time;  real  dangers 
confronted  her.  She  had  to  wonder  how  she 
might  chance  to  feel  when,  as  was  eminently 
probable,  she  might  be  driven  into  the  woods 
by  the  remorseless  Britons.  Mrs.  Adams 
agrees  with  her  in  a  disinclination  for  diver- 
sion. She  implores  her  to  write  very  often 
"whilst  you  tarry  at  Watertown. "  She 
adds : — 

"I  fear  I  shall  not  see  you  at  Watertown.  I 
feel  but  little  inclination  to  go  into  company  — 
I  have  no  son  big  enough  to  accompany  me,  and 
two  women  cannot  make  out  so  well  as  when  they 
are  more  naturally  coupled.  I  do  not  fancy  riding 
through  roxbury  with  only  a  female  partner.  So 
believe  you  will  not  see  Your  Portia." 

These  two  women  not  only  compare  their 
sentiments  of  unshaken  trust  in  the  good  that 
is  "the  final  goal  of  ill,"  and  their  belief  in 
the  validity  of  resistance,  but  they  occa- 
sionally look  danger  in  the  face  and  with 
unshaken  nerve  set  down  "his  form  and 
pressure."  January  28,  1775,  Mrs.  Warren 


THE   WOMAN'S  PART 

writes  that  she  perceives  from  her  friend's  last 
letter  the  apprehensions  under  which  she  is 
suffering.  She  owns  their  validity :  — 

"  I  am  very  sensible  with  you  my  dear  Mr8  Adams 
that  by  our  Happy  Connection  with  partners  of 
Distinguish^  Zeal  integrity  &  Virtue,  who  would 
be  Marked  out  as  Early  Victims  to  successful  Tyr- 
any,  we  should  thereby  be  subjected  to  peculiar 
afflictions,  but  yet  we  shall  never  wish  them  to  do 
anything  for  our  sakes  Kepugnant  to  Honour  or 
Conscience  but  though  we  may  ...  be  willing 
to  suffer  pain  &  poverty  with  them,  Rather  than 
they  should  deviate  from  their  Noble  Principles 
of  Integrity  &  Honour,  yet  where  would  be  our 
Constancy  &  Fortitude  Without  Their  assistence 
to  support  the  Wounded  Mind.  And  Which  of 
us  should  have  the  Courage  of  an  Aria  or  A  Portia 
in  A  Day  of  trial  like  theirs,  for  myself  I  dare 
not  Boast  and  pray  Heaven  that  Neither  Mr  Adams 
nor  my  friend  may  be  Ever  Called  to  such  a  Dread- 
ful proof  of  Magnanimity.  I  do  not  mean  to  die 
by  our  own  hand  Rather  than  submit  to  the  yoke 
of  Servitude  &  survive  the  Companions  of  our 
Hearts,  nor  do  I  think  it  would  have  been  the 
Case  with  either  of  those  Celebrated  Ladies  had  they 
lived  in  the  Days  of  Christianity,  for  I  think  it  is 
much  greater  proof  of  an  Heroic  soul  to  struggle 
with  the  Calamities  of  life  and  patiently  Eesign 
ourselves  to  the  Evils  we  Cannot  avoid  than  cow- 
ardly to  shrink  from  the  post  alloted  us  by  the 

123 


MERCY   WARREN 

great  Director  of  the  Theatre  of  the  Universe 
Before  we  have  finished  our  part  in  the  Drama  of 
life." 

These  fears  are  destined  to  walk  with  her 
throughout  the  struggle.  On  February  27, 
1774,  she  writes:  — 

"...  Shall  I  own  to  you  that  the  "Woman  & 
the  Mother  daily  arouse  my  fears  &  fill  my  Heart 
with  anxious  Concern  for  the  decission  of  the 
Mighty  Controversy  between  Great  Britain  & 
the  Colonies,  for  if  the  sword  must  finally  termi- 
nate the  dispute  besides  the  feelings  of  Humanity 
for  the  Complicated  distress  of  the  Community, 
no  one  has  at  stake  a  Larger  share  of  Domestic 
Felicity  than  myself,  for  not  to  mention  my  fears 
for  him  with  whom  I  am  most  tenderly  connected : 
Methinks  I  see  no  less  than  five  sons  who  must 
buckle  on  the  Harness  and  perhaps  fall  a  sacrifice." 

But  she  reiterates  her  determination  to 
utter  no  complaint;  she  will  leave  it  "in  his 
Hand  who  wills  the  universal  Happiness  of 
his  Creatures." 

Her  vivid  imagination  was,  as  her  husband 
rallyingly  declared,  an  enemy  that  lived  al- 
ways within  her  gates.  Yet  her  dark  appre- 
hensions were  supported  by  all  the  probabilities 
of  the  hour.  "  But  oh ! "  she  writes,  October 
15,  1776,  "the  Dread  of  Loosing  all  that 

124 


THE   WOMAN'S  PART 

this  World  can  Bestow  by  one  Costly  sacrifice 
keeps  my  Mind  in  Continual  Alarm. "  In  the 
fear  of  loss,  she  died  daily.  The  realization 
of  what  her  costly  sacrifice  might  be  consti- 
tuted the  actual  sacrifice  of  the  moment. 

But  though  Abigail  Adams,  absorbed  in 
agricultural  and  domestic  problems,  had  no 
heart  for  any  social  circle  from  which  her 
husband  must  be  absent,  she  was  not  averse 
to  news  from  the  centres  of  social  life.  She 
besieges  Mrs.  Warren  for  portraits  of  those 
whom  she  meets  while  at  her  husband's  side, 
—  portraits  of  the  officers'  ladies,  portraits  of 
the  officers  themselves.  For  James  Warren 
was  on  friendly  and  intimate  terms  with  all 
the  notabilities  of  Cambridge,  and  his  wife  had 
ample  facilities  for  character  drawing.  I  love 
to  see  her  take  her  pen  in  hand,  and  sit  down 
to  the  task  with  a  well-satisfied  sigh,  warmly 
interested  in  human  creatures,  and  modestly 
conscious  of  being  able  to  hit  them  off !  Here 
is  a  sample  of  her  skill :  — 

WATERTOWN  April  17,  1776 

If  my  dear  friend  Required  only  a  very  Long 
Letter  to  make  it  agreeable  I  Could  easily  gratify 
her  but  I  know  there  must  be  many  more  Eequi- 
sites  to  make  it  pleasing  to  her  taste,  if  you 
Measure  by  Lines  I  Can  at  once  Comply,  if  by 

125 


MERCY  WARREN 

sentiment  I  fear  I  shall  fall  short,  but  as  Curi- 
osity seems  to  be  awake  with  Eegard  to  the  Com- 
pany I  keep  &  the  Manner  of  spending  my  time 
I  will  endeavour  to  gratify  you.  I  arrived  at  my 
Lodgings  before  Dinner  the  day  I  Left  you,  found 
an  obliging  family  Convenient  Room  &  in  the 
Main  an  agreable  set  of  Lodgers.  Next  Morn- 
ing I  took  a  Ride  to  Cambridge  and  waited  on 
Mr8  Washington  at  11  o  clock  where  I  was  Re- 
ceived with  the  politeness  &  Respect  shown  in  a 
first  interview  among  the  well  bred  &  with  the 
Ease  &  Cordiallity  of  friendship  of  a  much  Earlier 
date,  if  you  wish  to  hear  more  of  this  Ladys  Char- 
acter I  will  tell  you  I  think  the  Complacency  of  her 
Manners  speaks  at  once  the  Benevolence  of  her  Heart 
&  her  affability  Candor  &  Gentleness  quallify  her 
to  soften  the  hours  of  private  Life  or  to  sweeten 
the  Cares  of  the  Hero  &  smooth  the  Rugged  scenes 
of  War.  I  did  not  dine  with  her  though  much 
urg'd  but  Engaged  to  spend  the  ensuing  day  at 
headquarters.  She  desired  me  to  Name  an  early 
hour  in  the  Morning  when  she  would  send  her 
Chariot  and  Accompany  me  to  see  the  Deserted 
Lines  of  the  enemy  and  the  Ruins  of  Charleston. 
A  Melancholy  sight  the  Last  which  Evinces  the 
Barbaraty  of  the  foe  &  leaves  a  Deep  impression 
of  the  suffering  of  that  unhappy  town.  Mr  Custice 
is  the  only  son  of  the  Lady  [I]  Have  Discribed, 
a  sensible  Modest  agreeable  young  Man.  His 
Lady  a  Daughter  of  Coll  Calvert  of  Mariland,  ap- 
pears to  be  of  an  Engaging  Disposition  but  of  so 

126 


THE   WOMAN'S  PART 

Extremely  Delicate  a  Constitution,  that  it  Deprives 
her  as  well  as  her  friends  of  part  of  the  pleasure 
which  I  am  persuaded  would  Eesult  from  her  Con- 
versation did  she  enjoy  a  greater  Share  of  Health. 
She  is  pretty,  genteel  Easy  &  Agreable,  hut  a 
kind  of  Languor  about  her  prevents  her  being  so 
sociable  as  some  Ladies,  yet  it  is  evident  it  is  not 
owing  to  that  want  of  Vivacity  which  renders 
youth  agreable,  but  to  a  want  of  health  which 
a  Little  Clouds  her  spirits. 

But  there  was  one  enemy  of  the  time  which 
was  sufficiently  grewsome,  and  yet,  from  a 
social  aspect,  so  amusing  that  it  deserves 
consideration.  This  was  the  small-pox.  It 
was  no  new  visitor,  nor  was  the  remedy  of 
inoculation  new.  The  disease  was  in  evidence 
early  and  late,  and  in  1721  it  had  laid  Boston 
waste.  At  that  time  inoculation  had  been 
introduced  into  England,  despite  great  opposi- 
tion, by  Lady  Mary  Wortley  Montagu.  She 
had  begun  the  crusade  by  operating  on  her 
little  daughter,  and  Dr.  Zabdiel  Boylston,  of 
Boston,  had  the  same  courage  of  conviction. 
He  inoculated  his  own  son,  a  child  of  six,  a 
proceeding  which  was  thought  little  short  of 
murderous.  But  Cotton  Mather  stood  loyally 
by  him;  he  even  invited  the  physicians  to 
meet  for  consultation,  "  that  whoever  first  be- 
gins this  practice  may  have  the  concurrence 

127 


MERCY   WARREN 

of  his  worthy  brethren  to  fortify  him."  But 
the  physicians  were  wary  even  of  this  godly 
divine,  and  Dr.  Boylston  went  on  his  lonely 
way,  still  inoculating.  Out  of  the  two  hun- 
dred and  eighty-six  persons  operated  on  but 
six  died,  and  of  the  five  thousand  seven  hun- 
dred and  fifty-nine  not  inoculated,  eight  hun- 
dred and  forty-four  died.  This  was  sufficiently 
hard  for  the  growth  of  the  town  thus  early  in 
its  history ;  but  in  1776,  when  even  a  slight 
impulse  was  sufficient  to  distract  the  public 
mind,  the  reappearance  of  the  disease  proved 
to  be  no  small  matter.  But,  as  its  previous 
visits  had  shown,  the  social  side  of  the  case 
was  full  of  humor.  Hospitals  for  inoculation 
were  established,  and  patients  compared  notes 
with  avidity.  The  hospitals  were  no  new 
thing,  nor  was  the  social  complexion  of  the 
occasion.  Mrs.  Earle  quotes  a  letter  from  a 
Boston  merchant  to  Colonel  Wentworth,  in 
1775:  — 

"'Mr.  Storerhas  invited  Mrs.  Martin  to  take 
the  small-pox  in  her  house  ;  if  Mrs.  Wentworth 
desires  to  get  rid  of  her  fears  in  the  same  way 
we  will  accommodate  her  in  the  best  way  we  can. 
I  've  several  friends  that  I  Ve  invited,  and  none 
of  them  will  be  more  welcome  than  Mrs.  Went- 
worth . ' 

"These  brave  classes   took  their  various  puri- 

128 


THE  WOMAN'S  PART 

fying  and  sudorific  medicines  in  cheerful  concert, 
were  '  grafted  '  together,  '  broke  out '  together, 
were  feverish  together,  sweat  together,  scaled  off 
together,  and  convalesced  together." 

Hannah  Winthrop  writes  to  Mrs.  Warren :  — 

' '  The  reigning  suhject  is  the  Small  Pox.  Boston 
has  given  up  its  Fears  of  an  invasion  &  is  busily 
employd  in  Communicating  the  Infection.  Straw 
Beds  &  Cribs  are  daily  Carted  into  the  Town. 
That  ever  prevailing  Passion  of  following  the 
Fashion  is  as  predominent  at  this  time  as  ever. 
Men  Women  &  children  eagerly  crowding  to  in- 
noculate  is  I  think  as  modish  as  running  away 
from  the  Troops  of  a  barbarous  George  was  the 
last  year." 

The  local  letters  of  the  time  are  full  of  it. 
July  24,  1776,  John  Adams  writes  to  James 
Warren :  — 

"This,  I  suppose,  will  find  you  at  Boston, 
growing  well  of  the  Small  Pox.  This  Distemper 
is  the  King  of  Terrors  to  America  this  year. 
We  shall  suffer  as  much  by  it  as  we  did  last  Year 
by  the  Scarcity  of  Powder.  And  therefore  I  could 
wish,  that  the  whole  people  was  inoculated  —  it 
gives  me  great  pleasure  to  learn  that  such  numbers 
have  removed  to  Boston,  for  the  sake  of  going 
through  it,  and  that  Innoculation  is  permitted  in 
every  town. 

9  129 


MERCY  WARREN 

11 1  rejoice  at  the  spread  of  the  Small  Pox,  on 
another  account,  having  had  the  Small  Pox,  was 
the  merit,  which  originally,  recommended  me  to 
this  lofty  Station.  This  Merit  is  now  likely  to 
be  common  enough,  &  I  shall  stand  a  Chance 
to  be  relieved.  Let  some  others  come  here  and 
see  the  Beauties  and  Sublimities  of  a  Continental 
Congress.  —  I  will  stay  no  longer.  —  A  Hide  to 
Philadelphia,  after  the  Small  Pox,  will  contribute 
prodigiously  to  the  Restoration  of  your  Health.'7 

On  August  17,  he  writes :  "  I  had  a  letter 
from  you  by  the  Post  yesterday,  congratulate 
you  and  your  other  self,  on  your  happy  Pas- 
sage, through  the  Small  Pox." 

Enter  now  an  old  Tory  friend  of  ours  to 
enliven  the  situation.  This  reminiscence,  in 
the  words  of  John  Adams,  is  relative  to  his 
own  previous  experience:  — 

"After  having  been  ten  or  eleven  days  inocu- 
lated, I  lay  lolling  on  my  bed  in  Major  Cunning- 
ham's chamber  under  the  tree  of  liberty,  with  half 
a  dozen  young  fellows  as  lazy  as  myself,  all  wait- 
ing and  wishing  for  symptoms  and  eruptions;  all 
of  a  sudden  appeared  at  the  chamber  door  the 
reverend  Doctor  [Mather  Byles]  with  his  rosy  face, 
many-curled  wig,  and  pontifical  air  and  gait.  '  I 
have  been  thinking,'  says  he,  'that  the  clergy  of 
this  town  ought  upon  this  occasion  to  adopt  the 
benediction  of  the  Romish  clergy,  and,  when  we 

130 


THE   WOMAN'S  PART 

enter  the  apartment  of  the  sick,  to  say  in  the  for- 
eign pronouncation  Pax  tecum  I '  These  words  are 
pronounced  by  foreigners,  as  the  Dr.  pronounced 
them,  <  Pox  take  'em.'  " 

Here  is  another  picture  of  the  time,  written 
by  James  Warren  to  John  Adams :  — 

BOSTON  July  17  1776 

MY  DEAR  SIR,  —  When  you  are  Informed  that 
in  the  variety  of  Changes  that  have  taken  place  in 
this  Town  it  is  now  become  a  great  Hospital  for  In- 
oculation you  wilt  wonder  to  see  a  Letter  from  me 
dated  here,  but  so  it  is  that  the  rage  for  Inocula- 
tion prevailing  here  has  whirled  me  into  its  vortex 
&  brought  me  with  my  other  self  into  the  Crowd 
of  Patients  with  which  this  Town  is  now  filled, 
here  is  a  collection  of  Good,  Bad,  &  Indifferent  of 
all  Orders,  Sexes,  Ages  &  Conditions,  your  good 
Lady  &  Family  among  the  first,  she  will  give  you 
(I  presume)  such  an  ace'  of  herself  &c  as  makes  it 
unnecessary  for  me  to  say  more  on  that  head.  She 
will  perhaps  tell  you  that  this  is  the  reigning  sub- 
ject of  conversation,  &  ffhat  even  Politics  might 
have  been  suspended  for  a  Time  if  your  Declara- 
tion of  Independence  &  some  other  political  Move- 
ments of  yours  had  not  reached  us.  the  Declara- 
tion came  on  Saturday  &  diffused  a  general  Joy. 
Every  one  of  us  feels  more  Important  than  ever, 
we  now  congratulate  each  other  as  Freemen,  it 
has  really  raised  our  Spirits  to  a  Tone  Beneficial 
to  mitigate  the  Malignancy  of  the  Small  Pox,  & 
131 


MERCY  WARREN 

what  is  of  more  consequence  seems  to  animate  and 
inspire  every  one  to  support  &  defend  the  Inde- 
pendency he  feels.  I  shall  Congratulate  you  on 
the  Occasion  &  so  leave  this  subject,  &  go  to  one 
not  quite  so  agreeable.  Congress  have  acted  a  part 
with  regard  to  this  Colony,  shall  I  say  cunning  or 
Politic,  or  only  Curious,  or  is  it  the  Effect  of  Agita- 
tion, has  the  approach  of  Lord  Howe  had  such  an 
effect  on  the  Southern  Colonies  that  they  have  for- 
got the  very  Extensive  Sea  Coast  we  have  to  de- 
fend, the  Armed  Vessels  we  have  to  Man  from 
South  Carolina  to  the  Northern  Limits  of  the 
United  Colonies,  that  a  large  part  of  the  Conti- 
nental Army  is  made  up  from  this  Colony,  that  the 
General  has  not  only  got  our  Men  but  our  Arms 
&  that  they  within  two  months  ordered  a  reinforce- 
ment of  three  Battalions  to  the  five  already  here. 
Lucky  for  us  you  did  not  give  time  to  raise  these 
before  your  other  requisitions  reached  us,  or  we 
should  have  been  striped  indeed,  dont  the  South- 
ern Colonies  think  this  worth  defending,  or  do  they 
think  with  half  our  men  gone  the  remainder  can 
defend  it  with  Spears  &  darts,  or  with  Slings  (as 
David  slew  Goliah).  I  was  surprised  to  find  the 
Whole  five  Battalions  called  away,  no  determina- 
tion is  yet  taken  how  their  places  shall  be  supplyed. 
...  I  cant  describe  the  Alteration  &  the  Gloomy 
appearance  of  this  Town.  No  Business,  no  Busy 
horses  but  those  of  the  Physicians.  Euins  of  Build- 
ings, wharfs  &c  &c  wherever  you  go,  &  the  streets 
covered  with  Grass. 

132 


THE   WOMAN'S  PART 

Here  appears  the  domestic  atmosphere  of 
the  question,  set  forth  in  a  letter  from  Mercy 
Warren  to  her  husband :  — 

PLIMOUTH  25  Nov  1776. 

The  letter  my  dear  Mr.  Warren  will  receive  to- 
morrow I  almost  wish  I  had  not  wrote.  I  own  I 
was  a  litle  too  Low  spirited,  but  my  mind  was 
oppressed  &  I  wanted  to  unbosom,  it  is  this  even- 
ing no  less  free  from  care  though  I  feel  a  little 
Differently.  I  was  ready  to  think  the  task  of 
Governing  &  Regulating  my  Children  alone  al- 
most too  much  —  I  now  am  forced  to  strive  hard 
to  keep  out  the  Gloomy  apprehension  that  the 
Burden  may  soon  be  lessened  in  some  painful 
way.  I  have  been  this  afternoon  at  the  hospital 
wbere  I  left  your  three  youngest  sons.  Poor  Chil- 
dren —  it  was  not  possible  to  make  them  willing 
to  give  up  the  project,  they  thought  it  a  mighty 
priviledge  to  be  innoculated.  I  wish  nor  they  nor 
we  may  have  Reason  to  Eegret  it  —  but  I  cannot 
feel  quite  at  Ease  —  I  Want  to  Discourage  Winslow 
from  going  in  yet  am  afraid.  Their  accomoda- 
tions  are  not  altogether  to  my  liking  nor  are  their 
Nurses  sufficient  but  they  talk  of  getting  more  & 
better  —  but  if  my  dear  Children  should  be  very 
ill  I  must  go  &  take  Charge  of  them  myself  Incon- 
venient as  it  is  —  48  persons  were  innoculated  this 
afternoon  &  near  as  many  will  offer  to-morrow.  I 
think  it  is  too  many  for  one  Class.  But  there  they 
are  —  &  it  is  as  easy  for  the  Great  phisition  of  soul 
133 


MERCY  WARREN 

&  Body  to  Lend  Healing  Mercy  to  the  Multitude  as 
to  the  Few,  and  if  He  Brings  them  Back  in  safty  to 
their  several  Habitations  I  hope  we  shall  Adore  the 
Hand  that  Heals,  and  give  Glory  to  the  Eock  of 
our  salvation. 

Weusday  24  of  Nov.  Your  house  Looks  Lonely 
and  Deserted  in  a  manner  you  can  hardly  conceive 
—  but  three  or  four  weeks  will  soon  run  away  &  if 
my  family  should  then  be  Returned  in  safty  to  my 
own  Roof  I  shall  be  thankful  Indeed. 

They  were  returned  "in  safty,"  and  per- 
haps nothing  shows  so  truly  the  anxiety  their 
mother  had  suffered  as  the  havoc  thereby 
wrought  in  her  spelling.  The  "  Great  phisi- 
tion"  had  not  been  trusted  in  vain. 


134 


VI 

EARLY  AMERICAN  LITERATURE 

AMERICAN  literary  history  does  not  begin  in 
America.  Back  to  the  first  clear  fount  it 
goes,  to  Piers  the  Plowman  and  the  ferlies  of 
Malvern  Hills,  to  Chaucer's  spring  song  set 
to  the  rippling  accompaniment  of  leaves,  and, 
still  nearer  the  moment  of  its  individual 
being,  to  the  splendid  creative  energy  of  the 
Elizabethan  period.  The  literary  achieve- 
ment which,  in  England,  immediately  pre- 
ceded our  written  word,  was  beautifully  at 
one  with  these.  It  held  the  lofty  plane  of 
being  where  art  is  not  to  be  judged  as  form 
alone,  but  as  the  appropriate  garment  of  life 
itself.  Let  it  be  remembered  that  John 
Smith  sent  home  his  vital  word  relative  to 
the  New  World  only  eight  years  before 
Shakespeare  died,  and  that  at  the  moment 
Spenser  and  Sidney  were  young  in  the  memory. 
The  time  was  just  declining  from  that  great 
height  of  glorious  action  when  life  looked 
infinitely  precious  in  possibilities,  and  the 

135 


MERCY  WARREN 

world  was  a  football  for  any  eager  soul.  The 
riches  of  being  seemed  then  unplumbed;  the 
possibilities  of  thought  and  action  were  unfet- 
tered. Men  were  sane,  robust,  enamored  of 
colossal  deeds,  and  so  in  love  with  life  that 
they  read  her  inner  soul  and  created  her  twin 
sister,  the  drama,  through  a  careless  retrospect 
of  what  they  and  their  fellows  had  enjoyed  and 
suffered. 

Then  followed,  parallel  with  our  Colonial 
infancy,  that  incredible  period  of  perfect  lyric 
expression,  when  every  man  could  strike  a 
blow  and  sing  a  song.  Even  the  soldier  told 
his  love  in  phrases  we  scarce  dare  touch 
to-day,  though  with  a  finger-tip  of  praise,  so 
precious  have  they  grown  in  lone  perfection. 
These  were  but  gauds  of  time  to  Pilgrim  and 
Puritan,  wilfully  deaf  to  beautiful  achieve- 
ment; but  even  they  could  not  fail  to  be 
affected  by  the  strenuous  vitality  of  a  spring 
which  brought  such  buds  to  flower.  While 
our  forefathers  meditated  upon  the  exact 
complexion  of  a  future  state,  there  were  men 
who  lived  gayly  in  contempt  of  death,  their 
only  petition  (carolled  lustily,  as  though 
Tristram  of  Brittany  led  the  stave), 

"  A  short  life  in  the  saddle,  Lord ! 
Not  long  life  by  the  fire ! " 


EARLY  AMERICAN  LITERATURE 

Never  was  a  greater  contrast;  but  those 
stern  forbears  of  ours,  who  had  been  so  justly 
stirred  to  bitter  reaction,  could  not  escape  the 
benison  of  the  art  life  they  despised.  In  some 
sweet  corners  of  England  the  lyric  world  was 
at  the  morn;  its  light  was  meant  to  grow  and 
spread.  Again  there  was  the  crowding  of 
deeds.  No  more  such  broidered  pageants  as 
when  men  went  sailing  over  sea,  to  return 
with  dusky  natives,  gems  of  price,  and  tales 
more  precious  yet  of  savage  land  and  open 
treasure,  —  not  these,  but  the  civil  upheaval 
of  a  nation.  And  so  the  great  historic  and 
literary  spirit  of  the  time  passed  on  into  the 
next  century,  with  its  artificial  restraints,  but 
brightened  by  the  essay  and  the  robust  begin- 
nings of  the  novel. 

The  seriousness  and  the  amount  of  Mercy 
Warren's  work  entitle  her  to  a  place  in  local 
literary  history;  and,  indeed,  weighed  with 
her  contemporaries,  she  was  of  no  small  im- 
portance. Therefore  she  can  only  be  justly 
estimated  with  reference  to  her  background 
and  environment;  and  especially,  although 
the  literary  pulse  beat  intermittently  from 
Massachusetts  to  Virginia,  with  reference  to 
her  own  immediate  surroundings,  the  mental 
life  of  New  England.  To  weigh  the  causes 
which  must  have  formed  her  intellectual 

137 


MERCY  WARREN 

activity,  it  is  necessary  to  look  beyond  her 
own  life  and  work,  back  to  the  childhood  of 
the  book  as  it  grew  in  America. 

Here,  as  ever  at  that  period,  you  come  at 
once  upon  Old  England  regnant  over  the  New. 
The  first  book-makers  among  us — John  Smith, 
Bradford,  Winthrop,  Winslow  —  were  born 
in  the  mother-country.  They  were  Eng- 
lish to  the  bone,  though,  once  under  these 
brighter  skies,  their  outlook  changed  and  their 
expression  became  swiftly  modified  by  soil 
and  climate  and  dramatic  conditions  which 
were  absolutely  strange.  It  was  no  mere 
romantic  phrasing  which  named  ours  the  New 
World.  This  was  not  only  an  unfamiliar  land, 
but  a  land  untouched,  unspoiled.  In  the 
merely  picturesque,  it  must  have  appealed 
almost  with  passion  to  natures  sprung  from 
that  mellowed  soil  where  traditions  have  been 
overspread  like  fine  inscriptions  on  priceless 
manuscripts.  The  almost  limitless  spaces, 
the  floods  of  crystal  air  untainted  by  a  breath, 
the  solitudes  shared  only  with  wild  things  or 
men  as  wild,  the  deep  wood  recesses  where 
any  tree  might  seem  some  hoary  eremite  (in 
that  among  such  myriads  it  might  never  yet, 
in  all  its  growth,  have  caught  the  eye  of 
man).  This  was  the  new  scene,  the  God- 
given  and  God-governed  theatre  of  action. 

138 


EARLY  AMERICAN  LITERATURE 

To  take  up  life  so  illuminated  and  inspired 
was  to  stand  forth  another  man  in  the  first 
Eden.  Even  to  us  who,  in  going  abroad, 
leave  civilized  conditions  for  others  more 
civilized  yet,  a  foreign  shore  is  strangely 
thrilling ;  it  caresses  the  mind  and  the  eye  as 
well.  We  are  awakened  to  an  ecstasy  hitherto 
unknown.  We  renew  an  infancy  of  jo}'  in  the 
foretaste  of  experiences  absolutely  untried.  If 
travel  be  thus  for  us,  pilgrims  of  the  common- 
place, what  must  it  have  been  to  men  who 
made  the  journey  hither  the  great  culminating 
act  of  their  lives,  the  leap  into  an  unknown 
less  tangible  to  them  than  that  other  far 
country  of  death!  And  having  once  set  foot 
on  their  chartered  land,  day  by  day  offered  a 
bewildering  drama,  strenuous  enough  to  start 
even  the  ice-locked  torrent  of  the  Puritan 
nature. 

Even  their  warfare  was  dramatic.  Torn 
from  a  battlefield  where  the  enemy  had  been 
moral  and  spiritual,  and  where,  if  they  fell 
on  death,  it  was  according  to  the  civilized 
rules  of  the  game,  here  they  must  grapple 
with  the  possibility  of  ambush,  torture,  or 
hideous  massacre.  Their  foes  were  colossal, 
formless,  like  monsters  in  the  dark, —  savage 
nature,  starvation,  cold,  and  plague.  Day  by 
day,  like  a  monotonous  drone  and  burden, 

139 


MERCY  WARREN 

went  on  the  sordid  cares  of  household  life. 
Yet  informing  every  trial  was  the  exhilarating 
certainty  of  freedom  of  soul  and  action  (save 
for  Baptists,  Quakers,  and  such  small  deer !), 
an  abiding  consciousness  of  actual  birth  into 
another  star. 

From  such  an  overplus  of  life  there  could 
not  fail  to  be  great  results,  though  action 
swept  on  very  swiftly  and  gave  impressions 
little  time  to  fructify  and  bloom  again  in  the 
perfect  forms  of  art.  With  the  moral  and 
actual  call  to  arms  sounding  about  them  on 
every  side,  it  was  impossible  for  the  colonists 
to  pause  between  great  blows  and  set  down 
words  according  to  accepted  canons.  The 
deed  came  first.  The  word,  as  it  ever  should 
be,  followed,  her  attendant  minister.  Per- 
haps the  most  notable  exception  during  that 
period  of  earnest  being  was  George  Sandys, 
who,  in  the  midst  of  bleak  conditions,  kept 
his  hand  ever  upon  the  pulse  of  living  anti- 
quity, and  made  his  translation  of  Ovid  the 
noble  purpose  of  a  devoted  life.  Thus  arose 
in  the  wilderness  the  voice  of  Latin  poetry, 
a  fine,  pure  note,  preluding,  let  us  hope,  the 
reverence  of  the  New  World  for  the  general 
motherhood  of  literature.  Thus,  perhaps,  was 
laid  the  foundation  of  our  house  of  art. 

Moreover,  not  only  did  utility  hold   every 

140 


EARLY  AMERICAN  LITERATURE 

inch  of  ground  against  the  patient  goddess, 
Beauty,  but  for  the  latter  the  Puritans, 
through  the  very  limitations  of  their  nature, 
had  absolutely  no  use.  This,  said  they,  is  a 
dying  world, —  crass  expression  of  an  antique 
philosophy,  so  savagely  shot  forth  that  it 
wounded  where  it  fell,  themselves  most  of 
all.  They  sought  an  abiding  kingdom,  and 
with  a  sad  and  childlike  logic  they  bound 
infinity  with  their  own  interpretation  of 
"Thou  shalt"  and  "Thou  shalt  not."  They 
classified  beauty  among  the  unrealities  of  life, 
and,  with  a  boastfully  passionate  renunciation, 
swore  fealty  to  truth.  But  the  Spirit  of  Beauty 
is  not  to  be  offended.  She  has  the  patience  of 
God.  Give  her  a  sand-heap,  and  she  will 
bring  forth  a  flower  there.  She  still  abode 
with  them  in  the  wilderness,  like  the  rejected 
mistress  of  the  olden  tales,  who,  in  page's 
garments,  follows  her  love,  and  ministers  to 
him  whether  he  will  or  no. 

And  so,  throughout  the  unconscious  expres- 
sion of  their  hot  living  come  slight  glimpses 
of  the  divine,  the  imperishable.  To  return 
to  that  first  page  of  American  literature  is  to 
find  it  significant:  John  Smith's  True  Rela- 
tion of  Virginia,  trenchant,  curt,  a  soldier's 
letter,  the  sword-thrust  of  a  man  of  action, 
the  braggadocio  of  a  fighter  and  swashbuck- 

141 


MERCY  WARREN 

ler,  full  of  snorting  defiance  for  the  gentlemen 
of  England  "who  sit  at  home  at  ease"  and 
teach  their  betters  how  to  weather  a  gale.  It 
breathes  the  freedom  of  speech  incident  to  the 
New  World  ;  that  swaggering  egoism  caught, 
perhaps,  from  intoxicating  winds  and  great 
bright  spaces  and  grown  now  into  a  national 
vice.  It  was  personal  as  well  as  epistolary ; 
and  so,  in  the  main,  were  all  the  beginnings 
of  the  book  among  us. 

For  these  men  who  first  set  pen  to  paper 
had  a  homespun  desire  to  enlighten  stay-at- 
homes  as  to  the  exigencies  of  the  new  life,  to 
coax  recruits,  and  to  justify  themselves  for 
coming.  There  wore  at  their  very  doors 
wonders  whereof  even  Elizabethan  England, 
sweeping  the  heaven  with  such  an  eye  as  has 
never  yet  regarded  it,  of  which  even  she  saw 
nothing.  The  Indians  were  a  never-failing 
source  of  curiosity  to  our  cousins  over  sea. 
The  hardships  of  life  in  the  wilderness  were, 
in  their  eyes,  dramatic  as  the  doings  of  the 
Children  of  Israel.  Not  an  exile  among  our 
fathers  but  knew  this,  and  would  fain  send 
home  some  Relation,  some  News  from  New 
England,  or  discursive  tale  of  a  colony. 
Moreover,  John  Smith  was  not  the  only  man 
to  be  suspected  of  drawing  the  longbow.  The 
learned  Josselyn,  forerunner  of  our  naturalists 


EARLY  AMERICAN  LITERATURE 

and  observers,  told  some  strange  tales  out  of 
the  school  of  open  air,  —  of  frogs  "  as  big 
as  a  child  of  a  year  old,"  or  the  monstrous 
Pilhannaw  who  "  aeries  in  the  woods  upon  the 
high  hills  of  Ossapy."  The  Pilhannaw  may  be 
as  unsubstantial  as  the  bread-and-butter  fly, 
but  her  creation  is  worth  while,  if  only  that 
it  might  give  birth  to  a  sentence  so  alluring 
in  remote,  sweet  sound. 

From  Winslow  and  Bradford,  fathers  of 
American  history,  through  the  ponderous 
annals  of  Cotton  Mather,  our  early  writing 
was  a  chronicle  of  events ;  and,  like  the  civil 
polity  of  the  day,  its  very  form  was  based 
upon  religion.  The  fountain-head  of  inspira- 
tion was  ever  the  Bible.  A  man  might  know 
the  tongues  and  quote  them  fluently,  but  the 
source  of  life  was  Hebraic.  To  realize  this 
simple  dependence  on  the  literal  interpretation 
of  Scripture,  and  to  realize  the  hold  it  had,  it 
is  only  necessary  to  turn  to  matters  politi- 
cal ;  and  I  know  of  no  more  pregnant  instance 
than  one  connected  with  John  Winthrop's 
public  life,  where  he  considers  the  project  of 
furnishing  aid  to  La  Tour  in  his  Canadian 
warfare,  and  gravely  bases  his  argument,  not 
on  political  expediency,  but  on  the  one  point 
whether  La  Tour  is  to  be  considered  "  a  neigh- 
bor." For  if  he  be  a  neighbor,  then  the 

J43 


MERCY  WARREN 

Scriptures  command  that  he  shall  receive  help 
in  time  of  need. 

Throughout  these  vivid  beginnings,  how- 
ever, there  is  no  slightest  hint  of  intentional 
fine  writing.  The  first  chroniclers  aim  only 
at  plain  fact,  but,  in  spite  of  them,  it  is 
garnished  with  aspiration,  touched  here  and 
there  by  some  sudden,  thrilling  beauty  of 
phrase,  or  lighted  sparsely  with  rays  of  a 
naive,  unconscious  humor.  Sometimes  they 
rise  to  a  height  unattainable  by  us  who  do 
not  speak  from  the  altitude  of  such  spiritual 
desire;  their  words  become  Miltonic.  There 
is  a  dignified  simplicity  in  their  touch  which 
transcends  elaborate  description.  Young  tells 
of  "  a  hideous  and  desolate  wilderness,  full  of 
wild  beasts  and  wild  men."  Could  word  be 
stronger,  and  at  the  same  time  less  intention- 
ally challenging  ?  l3ut  if  one  might  choose  a 
representative  paragraph  out  of  abundant 
beauty,  let  him  take  Bradford's  description  of 
the  Pilgrims  departing  from  Holland :  — 

"And  ye  time  being  come  that  they  must  de- 
parte,  they  were  accompanied  with  most  of  their 
brethren  out  of  ye  citie,  unto  a  towne  sundrie  miles 
of  called  Delfes-Haven,  wher  the  ship  lay  ready  to 
receive  them.  So  they  left  y*  goodly  &  pleasante 
citie,  which  had  been  ther  resting  place  near  12 
years ;  but  they  knew  they  were  pilgrimes,  &  looked 
144 


EARLY  AMERICAN  LITERATURE 

not  much  on  those  things,  but  lift  up  their  eyes  to 
ye  heavens,  their  dearest  cuutrie,  and  quieted  their 
spirits.  When  they  came  to  ye  place  they  found 
ye  ship  and  all  things  ready;  and  shuch  of  their 
freinds  as  could  not  come  with  them  followed  after 
them,  and  sundrie  also  came  from  Amsterdame  to 
see  them  shipte  and  to  take  their  leave  of  them. 
That  night  was  spent  with  litle  sleep  by  ye  most, 
but  with  freindly  entertainmente  &  Christian  dis- 
course and  other  reall  expressions  of  true  Christian 
love.  The  next  day,  the  wind  being  faire,  they 
wente  aborde,  and  their  freinds  with  them,  where 
truly  dolfull  was  ye  sight  of  that  sade  and  mournfull 
parting;  to  see  what  sighs  and  sobbs  and  praires 
did  sound  amongst  them,  what  tears  did  gush  from 
every  eye,  &  pithy  speeches  peirst  each  harte;  that 
sundry  of  ye  Dutch  strangers  y4  stood  on  ye  key  as 
spectators,  could  not  refraine  from  tears.  Yet  com- 
fortable &  sweete  it  was  to  see  shuch  lively  and 
true  expressions  of  dear  &  unfained  love.  But 
ye  tide  (which  stays  for  no  man)  caling  them  away 
y*  were  thus  loath  to  departe,  their  Reved:  pastor 
falling  downe  on  his  knees,  (and  they  all  with 
him,)  with  watrie  cheeks  comended  them  with 
most  fervente  praiers  to  the  Lord  and  his  bless- 
ing. And  then  with  mutuall  imbrases  and  many 
tears,  they  tooke  their  leaves  one  of  an  other;  which 
proved  to  be  ye  last  leave  to  many  of  them." 

This  has  the  dolor,  not  so  much  of  Scripture, 
as  of  some  simple  tale  of  "  old,  far-off,  forgot- 

10  145 


MERCY  WARREN 

ten  things,"  perhaps  like  Malory's  parting  be- 
tween Launcelot  and  Guenever. 

Nor  was  there  dearth  of  simple  human- 
ity, whether  you  take  that  very  humorous 
gentleman,  the  Cobbler  of  Agawam,  or  the 
sweet-natured  Sewall,  with  his  sober  sanity, 
his  predilection  for  widows,  his  inspection  of 
the  family  coffins  (with  the  after-comment, 
"  'T  was  an  awful  yet  pleasing  treat "),  his 
ingenuous  tribute  to  the  tooth  which  dropped 
out  in  meeting,  and  his  mental  quickening  in 
those  first  days  when  "the  swallows  unani- 
mously and  cheerfully  proclaimed  the  spring." 
No  eye  roving  through  the  byways  of  Ameri- 
can literature  could  possibly  slip  past  this 
sweet  soul  without  loving  communion,  no  mat- 
ter how  eagerly  one  would  get  on  "  to  Hecuba. " 

Until  England's  fortunate  obtuseness  to 
her  own  interests  and  our  needs,  America  was 
simply  a  collection  of  Colonies  differing  amaz- 
ingly in  forms  of  speech,  habit  of  thought,  and 
social  customs.  The  settlers  were  unlike  in 
nationality  and  religion.  They  represented 
different  classes  of  society,  with  their  various 
traditions,  beliefs,  and  prejudices;  and  seizing 
a  foothold  on  a  continent  where  even  climate 
itself  is  sufficiently  unstable  to  vary  a  common 
type,  they  crystallized  into  isolated  communi- 
ties having  only  a  family  likeness.  Had  not 


EARLY  AMERICAN  LITERATURE 

the  fortunate  blow  of  the  Stamp  Act  come  at 
the  significant  moment,  to  jar  us  into  unity 
and  coherence,  we  should  have  been  a  polyglot 
nation.  All  the  low  mutterings  of  revolt 
along  the  horizon  culminated  then  in  flash 
and  peal,  significant  as  a  tocsin  calling  the 
people  to  arms.  From  that  instant  every 
mind  was  bent  upon  identical  issues,  and 
from  that  instant  began  a  national  life,  and, 
inseparable  from  it,  a  national  literature. 
Then  a  splendid  vitality  went  into  speech  and 
pamphlet,  of  a  nature  to  overtop  the  more 
labored  efforts  of  any  piping  time  of  peace. 
This  was  the  day  of  undying  phrase,  struck  out 
in  the  heat  of  argument,  or  born  in  the  night- 
watches,  when  every  man  thought  prayerfully, 
worshipfully,  of  that  great  possibility,  the 
scope  of  which  he  knew  not  as  yet,  but  which 
was  destined  to  be  his  country  and  the  coun- 
try of  us  all.  Here  again,  as  in  Elizabethan 
England,  was  a  time  when  deeds  were  linked 
indissolubly  to  high  expression;  as,  in  later 
days,  our  own  Grant  could  indite  his  simple 
style  with  soldier  pen,  and  Lincoln,  a  plain 
man,  who  yet  knew  the  issues  of  life  and 
death,  could  make  immortal  phrases  because 
he  served  immortal  issues.  Through  the 
entire  course  of  Colonial  disaffection,  from  the 
first  petition  to  the  culminating  Declaration 

147 


MERCY   WARREN 

of  Independence,  there  was  the  same  pertinence 
of  phrase. 

The  estimate  of  the  time  is  best  summed 
up  in  the  words  of  Chatham,  one  among  our 
champions  in  Great  Britain  who  saw  us 
justly.  In  1775,  he  thus  addressed  the  House 
of  Lords :  — 

"When  your  lordships  look  at  the  papers  trans- 
mitted us  from  America,  when  you  consider  their 
decency,  firmness,  and  wisdom,  you  cannot  but 
respect  their  cause,  and  wish  to  make  it  your  own. 
For  myself,  I  must  avow  that  in  all  my  reading  — 
and  I  have  read  Thucydides  and  have  studied  and 
admired  the  master-states  of  the  world  —  for  so- 
lidity of  reason,  force  of  sagacity,  and  wisdom  of 
conclusion  under  a  complication  of  difficult  circum- 
stances, no  body  of  men  can  stand  in  preference  to 
the  General  Congress  at  Philadelphia." 

And  with  all  these  men  who  slowly  attained 
unto  vigorous  expression,  what  contributed  to 
their  mental  life  ?  What  was  the  stimulus 
strong  enough  to  make  a  woman  like  Mercy 
Warren  the  equal  of  statesmen  who  had  ten 
times  her  advantages  ?  Though  the  atmos- 
phere of  art  was  absolutely  lacking  in  this 
early  life  of  New  England,  there  had  been, 
from  the  first,  a  sustained  intellectual  activ- 
ity. The  wise  builders  of  our  nation  had 
shown  their  just  estimate  of  values  by  making 

148 


EARLY  AMERICAN  LITERATURE 

church  and  college  the  complement  of  material 
and  industrial  life.  No  sooner  were  they 
settled  than  they  erected  a  meeting-house,  and 
there  were  held  weekly  services  which  had 
more  than  a  sacred  significance.  They  were 
austere  mental  exercises.  The  minister  was 
the  epitome  of  general  culture.  He  stood 
forth  not  only  the  savant  of  the  skies,  capable 
of  mapping  out  the  scheme  of  heaven  and  hell, 
but  he  was  an  intellectual  gymnast,  crammed 
with  book-learning,  skilful  in  argument,  a 
master  of  long-winded  discourse.  When  it 
came  to  scholarship,  those  old  divines  were 
sometimes  tremendous,  as  tough  in  the  men- 
tal sinews  of  attack  as  their  congregation  in 
receptivity  and  endurance.  The  intellectual 
exercise  of  the  week  lay  in  following  their 
polemics,  calculated  either  to  turn  men  into 
maniacs  or  thinkers.  The  hair-splitting  dis- 
cussions of  mediaeval  schoolmen  could  scarcely 
have  been  more  interminable  or  dreary;  nor, 
let  it  be  said,  more  conducive  to  that  habit  of 
mental  attention  which  has  such  disciplinary 
use. 

Before  1765,  seven  colleges  had  been  estab- 
lished, Harvard  first  of  all,  in  1636.  And  so 
were  letters  kept  alive  as  truly  as  in  the  Dark 
Ages  of  Europe  by  monastic  and  university 
life.  Isolated  as  were  the  Colonial  centres  in 

149 


MERCY  WARREN 

the  days  before  national  calamity  brought 
about  national  union,  the  colleges  contributed 
toward  a  common  life,  a  common  understand- 
ing. For  a  young  man  might  attend  a  college 
not  at  his  very  door,  and  thus  find  himself 
shorn  of  sectional  prejudices  and  broadened 
by  knowledge  of  customs  unlike  his  own. 
But  best  of  all,  the  fire  of  learning  was  kept 
alive  and  burning  brightly  there.  Training 
in  the  classics  was  something  extraordinary 
for  severity  and  perfection.  One  significant 
change  came  with  the  birth  of  the  new  nation, 
—  a  change  in  social  atmosphere.  For  where- 
as, previous  to  the  class  which  was  graduated 
in  1773,  the  names  on  the  Harvard  catalogue 
were  arranged  according  to  social  precedence, 
after  that  moment,  when  all  men  were  about  to 
assert  themselves  free  and  equal,  the  lists 
were  made  alphabetical. 

The  new  America  had  also  her  newspapers, 
the  earliest  one  that  lived  to  grow  up  being 
the  Boston  «  News  Letter, "  of  1704.  Then  there 
were  almanacs,  even  before  Poor  Richard's, 
and  a  flood  after  him,  —  little  commonplace 
books,  full  of  predictions,  observations,  and 
counsel,  destined  to  fill  a  large  share  in  the 
dull  hours  of  the  house-bound ;  and  as  to  their 
margins,  excellent  for  the  writing  of  verse. 
The  Rev.  John  Cotton,  who  put  his  almanac 

150 


EARLY  AMERICAN  LITERATURE 

to  that  use,  was  not  the  only  sober  New 
Englander  who  dropped  into  poetry.  It  was 
a  vice  —  and  a  saving  virtue  —  of  the  time. 
Nothing  save  cloistered  life  was  ever  more 
austere,  more  rigid,  than  this  of  New  Eng- 
land. To  ignore  beauty,  to  preserve  an  in- 
tense self-scrutiny,  to  hunt  sins  to  their  lair 
till  they  turned  and  rent  their  pursuers,  — 
this  was  a  large  part  of  the  sombre  duty  of 
the  day.  Sin  gave  them  a  great  deal  of 
trouble.  One  almost  feels  that  the  sinner,  in 
irritated  despite,  was  harried  into  it.  Even 
William  Bradford  wrote  of  wrong-doers:  — 

11  An  other  reason  may  be  {[for  sin]  that  it  may 
be  in  this  case  as  it  is  with  waters  when  their 
streames  are  stopped  or  darned  up,  when  they  gett 
passage  they  flow  with  more  violence,  and  make 
more  noys  and  disturbance,  than  when  they  are 
suffered  to  run  quietly  in  their  owne  chanels.  So 
wikednes  being  here  more  stopped  by  strict  laws, 
and  ye  same  more  nerly  looked  into,  so  as  it  cannot 
rune  in  a  common  road  of  liberty  as  it  would,  and 
is  inclined,  it  searches  everywher,  and  at  last  breaks 
out  wber  it  getts  vent." 

In  such  an  atmosphere  of  unnatural  re- 
pression there  must  have  been  more  than  a 
slight  satisfaction  in  the  outlet  of  verse.  It 
eased  the  heart.  It  fed  some  sense  of  the 
great  craving  for  art  in  a  rhythm  and  melody 

151 


MERCY   WARREN 

however  faulty.  Some  of  it  is  sufficiently  bad, 
but  even  the  worst  has  a  pathos  all  its  own ; 
it  is  a  childlike  striving  for  expression.  The 
most  serious  of  men  broke  forth,  too,  into 
anagrams.  They  wrote  them  on  every  occa- 
sion, notably  for  funerals,  when  they  must 
have  added  a  horror  to  death. 

Thus,  sometimes  weak  and  striving  for 
breath,  and  again  drawing  deep  draughts  of 
exultant  power  and  shouting  aloud  on  the 
hilltops,  literature  kept  herself  alive ;  and 
when  Mercy  Warren  took  up  the  pen,  there 
were  appreciative  ears,  and  hands  ready  to 
applaud. 


152 


VII 
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MERCY  WARREN  belonged  to  that  more 
advanced  period  of  literary  activity  when  effort 
was  not  altogether  tentative.  Vague  or  rough 
as  it  might  be,  she  had  a  background,  though 
she  was  not  to  prove  herself  eminently  superior 
to  it.  Her  work  was  by  no  means  the  out- 
come of  that  welling  impulse  we  are  accus- 
tomed to  call  inspiration,  but  the  product  of 
an  intellectual  and  moral  activity  which  might 
easily  have  been  otherwise  expressed. 

In  her  handling  of  public  affairs,  she  had 
all  the  true  woman's  scorn  of  expediency  and 
intolerance  of  any  action  short  of  taking  the 
bull  by  the  horns.  Thus,  seizing  the  medium 
of  verse,  she  gave  free  play  to  her  powers  of 
reflection  and  satire ;  and,  with  Mrs.  Warren, 
what  her  "  heart  thinks  "  her  "  tongue  speaks." 
For  her  there  was  never  a  middle  course.  Life, 
and  even  political  life,  was  right  or  wrong. 
There  were  moral  blacks  and  whites;  there 
were  no  grays.  Tell-tale  evidence  lies  in  a  cer- 

153 


MERCY    WARREN 

tain  reminiscence  of  hers  called  forth  by  John 
Adams.  December  16,  1778,  she  writes  him, 
reminding  him  that  six  years  before  he  had 
said  by  the  Plymouth  fireside,  in  a  moment  of 
despondency,  that  "  the  dispute  between  Great 
Britain  and  America  would  not  be  settled 
untill  your  sons  and  my  sons  were  able  to  visit 
and  negociate  with  the  different  European 
courts.  A  Lady  replied  (though  perhaps  not 
from  prescience  but  from  presentiment  or 
presumption)  that  you  must  do  it  yourselves  — 
that  the  work  must  be  done  immediately. " 

If  the  patriots  who,  at  Plymouth,  discussed 
the  political  weather,  needed  heartening  or 
even  a  bold  push  into  the  storm,  Dame  Mercy 
was  more  than  ready,  though  always  in  cour- 
teous deprecation  lest  she  overstep  the  bounds 
of  her  feminine  province.  One  letter  written 
her  husband  in  1776  contains  this  pertinent 
extract : — 

"  I  am  very  glad  to  hear  the  provincial  Congress 

is  so  full  —  and  that  you  are  not  apprehensive  of 

immediate  danger  from  the  king's  troops  —  yet  I 

cannot  say  I  am  altogether  so  well  pleased  with 

i/  the  expression  that  you  are  all  very  easy  without 

mentioning  anything  energetic  that  you  are  about 

to  do.     it  appears  to  me  there  has  been  a  hesitance 

full  long  enough  and  if  on  the  whole  it  is  thought 

most  expedient  your  body  should  not  act  with  more 

154 


LITERARY  WORK 

decission  and  vigor  would  it  not  be  most  for  the 
honour  of  individual  Gentlemen  to  make  some 
plausible  excuse  and  retreat  homeward?" 

"  Act,  and  act  well, "  she  is  always  virtually 
saying,  "  or  keep  yourself  within  the  bounds  of 
a  dignified  silence." 

Again  she  writes,  in  her  uncompromising 
worship  of  the  strait  way:  — 

"  I  much  admire  the  letter  from  Dr.  Franklin 
except  his  advice  with  regard  to  a  sum  of  money 
sent  hither  from  England  to  Bribe  the  American 
patriots.  I  by  no  means  approve  his  proposal  — 
and  I  am  sure  you  dislike  it  as  much  as  myself  — 
Let  their  money  perish  with  them  —  but  let  not 
the  shadow  of  venallity  even  for  a  moment  pollute 
the  hands  of  an  American  patriot." 

This  is  Mrs.  Warren  to  the  life.  She  is 
very  fond  of  talking  about  Roman  virtues; 
and  it  would  have  been  no  vain  pretence  had 
she  claimed  them  for  herself.  The  ideal  of 
liberty,  as  she  saw  it,  was  crystalline,  pure, 
not  to  be  approached  save  through  ways  as 
spotless.  If  there  must  be  war,  —  and  she 
was  never  one  who  really  shrank  from  that 
issue,  —  it  should  be  a  holy  war.  .  She  was 
ready  to  stand  by  and  gird  her  very  dearest 
for  a  contest  from  which  they  might  never 
return.  She  thought  "in  blood  and  iron;" 

155 


MERCY  WARREN 

and,  so  far  as  earnestness  goes,  thus  she  wrote. 
Her  verses  were  passed  about  from  hand  to 
hand,  long  before  publication  (and,  indeed, 
when  she  was  not  in  the  least  sure  they  ever 
would  be  published),  to  receive  no  small  meed 
of  praise.  Thus  far  in  Colonial  life,  women 
had  not  been  encouraged  in  the  pursuit  of 
literature.  Even  Governor  Winthrop,  writing 
always  with  malice  toward  none,  consigned 
them  to  the  limbo  they  had  earned.  He 
says :  — 

"The  Governour  of  Hartford  upon  Connecticut 

I  came  to  Boston,  and  brought  his  wife  with  him  (a 

I  godly  young  woman  and  of  special  parts)  who  was 

I  fallen  into  a  sad  infirmity,  the  loss  of  her  under- 

I    standing  and  reason,  which  had  been  growing  upon 

I    her  divers  years  by  occasion  of  her  giving  herself 

wholly  to  reading  and  writing,  and  had  written 

many  books.     Her  husband,  being  very  loving  and 

tender  of  her,  was  loath  to  grieve  her;  but  he  saw 

his  errour  when  it  was  too  late.     For  if  she  had 

attended  her  household  affairs,  and  such  things  as 

belong  to  women,  and  not  gone  out  of  her  way  and 

calling  to  meddle  in  such  things  as  are  proper  for 

men,  whose  minds  are  stronger,  &c.,  she  had  kept 

her  wits,  and  might  have  improved  them  usefully 

and  honourably  in  the  place  God  had  set  her." 

Still,  when  a  star  had  really  risen  (especially 
if  it  took  good  care  not  to  depart  from  its 

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orbit;  the  woman  poet  must,  like  Mrs.  War- 
ren, attend  also  to  her  household  minutiae),  it 
was  hailed  with  acclamation.  For  this  was 
a  century  after  Anne  Bradstreet  had  been 
crowned  a  "Tenth  Muse,"  and  flattered  to  a 
point  inconceivable  even  to  us,  who  set  rush- 
lights to  reign  briefly  in  the  heavens.  Mercy 
Warren  was  the  centre  of  a  scarcely  less 
astonishing  influx  of  approbation.  John 
Adams  uses,  in  writing  to  her,  a  language 
warmer  than  that  of  the  courtier  to  Aspasia. 
His  "sugar  upon  honey  and  butter  upon 
cream  "  are  enough  to  lure  a  bird  out  of  a 
bush.  He  writes  her  from  Braintree,  January 
3,  1774:  — 

MADAM,  —  I  remember  that  Bishop  Burnet  in  a 
letter  he  once  wrote  to  Lady  Kachell  Russell  the 
virtuous  Daughter  of  the  great  Southampton,  the 
unfortunate  wife  of  Lord  Russell  who  died  a  Martyr 
to  English  Liberties,  says,  "Madam  I  never  attempt 
to  write  to  you  but  my  pen  conscious  of  its  Infe- 
riority falls  out  of  my  Hand"  —  The  polite  Prelate 
did  not  write  to  that  excellent  Lady  in  so  bold  a 
figure  with  half  the  Sincerity  that  I  could  apply  it 
to  myself  when  writing  to  Mrs.  Warren. 

He  prays  that  "a  double  Portion  of  her 
Genius  as  well  as  Virtues  [may]  descend  to 
her  Posterity,"  refers  again  to  her  as  "an 

157 


MERCY  WARREN 

^incomparable  Satyrist  of  our  Acquaintance," 
'S  and  goes  on  to  say :  — 

"  My  most  friendly  Regards  to  a  certain  Lady, — 
tell  her,  that  God  Almighty,  (I  use  a  bold  style) 
has  intrusted  her  with  Powers,  for  the  good  of  the 
World,  which  in  the  course  of  his  Providence  he 
bestows  upon  very  few  of  the  human  Eace.  —  That 
instead  of  being  a  fault  to  use  them,  it  would  be 
criminal  to  neglect  them." 

Again,  he  writes  her  husband  in  a  strain  of 
almost  delirious  admiration:  — 

tt  E/emember  me,  sir,  in  the  most  respectful 
manner  to  your  good  lady,  whose  manners,  virtues, 
genius,  and  spirit  will  render  her  immortal,  not- 
withstanding the  general  depravity." 

Mrs.  Winthrop,  who  was  a  friend  of  Mrs. 
Warren's  youth,  expresses  the  frankest  admira- 
tion for  her.  Indeed,  her  attitude,  like  many 
another  of  this  devoted  band,  was  that  of  a 
naive  surprise  that  anybody  could  possibly  be 
so  clever.  "  When  ever  my  Philomela  Tunes 
the  harp,"  writes  Hannah  Winthrop,  "my 
soul  is  in  raptures."  She  takes  a  journey, 
and  prays  Philomela  to  celebrate  it  in  verse ; 
and  thereupon  appear  the  lines  "  To  Honoria, 
on  her  Journey  to  Dover,  1777."  Abigail 
Adams  has  always  a  reverent  respect  for  her 
friend's  "intellects"  and  her  use  of  language, 

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quite  unconscious  of  the  fact  that  her  own 
letters  are  far  more  vivid  and  picturesque 
than  any  prose  of  her  stately  model,  and, 
with  human  perversity,  clinging  ever  to  an 
awed  admiration  of  that  form  of  intelligence 
which  can  embody  itself  in  rhyme.  More- 
over, she  is  never  done  with  encomiums  of 
Mrs.  Warren's  skill  in  character-drawing. 
In  1776,  she  writes:  — 

"I  acknowledge  my  Thanks  due  to  my  Friend 
for  the  entertainment  she  so  kindly  afforded  me  in 
the  Characters  drawn  in  her  Last  Letter,  and  if 
coveting  my  Neighbours  Goods  was  not  prohibited 
by  the  Sacred  Law  I  should  be  most  certainly 
tempted  to  envy  her  the  happy  talant  she  possesses 
above  the  rest  of  her  Sex,  by  adorning  with  her 
pen  even  trivial  occurrances,  as  well  as  dignifying 
the  most  important.  Cannot  you  communicate 
some  of  those  Graces  to  your  friend  and  suffer  her 
to  pass  them  upon  the  World  for  her  own  that  she 
may  feel  a  Little  more  upon  an  Equality  with 
you?" 

John  Adams  has  no  less  admiration  for 
her  skill  in  mental  portraiture.  In  1776,  he 
writes  her:  — 

"  I  was  charmed  with  three  Characters  drawn  by 
a  most  masterly  Pen,  which  I  recd  at  the  southward. 
Copeleys  Pencil  could  not  have  touched  off  with 

159 


MERCY   WARREN 

more  exquisite  Finishings,  the  Faces  of  those 
Gentlemen.  Whether  I  ever  answered  that  Letter 
I  know  not.  But  I  hope  Posterity  will  see  it.  if 
they  do  I  am  sure  they  will  admire  it.  I  think  I 
will  make  a  Bargain  with  you,  to  draw  the  Char- 
acter of  every  new  Personage  I  have  an  opportunity 
of  knowing  on  Condition  you  will  do  the  same. 
My  View  will  be  to  learn  the  Art  of  penetrating 
into  Mens  Bosoms,  and  then  the  more  difficult  art 
of  painting  what  I  shall  see  there." 

Mrs.  Warren  was  universally  supposed  to 
have  a  special  skill  in  that  dangerous  pastime 
of  analyzing  human  nature  and  relegating 
virtues  and  vices  to  the  little  niches  set  aside 
for  them  by  human  intelligence.  Her  friends 
besiege  her  for  "  reflections  "  on  the  character 
of  persons  prominent  in  official  life,  and  re- 
ceive her  conclusions  with  ready  applause. 

But  that  she  had  herself  sometimes  a  doubt 
of  the  validity  of  such  warfare  is  plain  enough 
from  her  own  ingenuous  appeal  to  John 
Adams,  January  30,  1775 :  — 

"  .  .  .  Though  a  Man  may  be  greatly  criminal 
in  his  Conduct  towards  the  society  in  which  he 
lives,  how  far  sir  do  you  think  it  justifiable  for  any 
individual  to  hold  him  up  the  Object  of  public 
Derision. 

"  And  is  it  consistent  with  the  Benevolent  sys- 
tem of  Christianity  to  Vilify  the  Delinquent  when 


LITERARY  WORK 

we  only  wish  to  Ward  of  the  fatal  consequences  of 
his  Crimes.  But  though  from  the  particular  Cir- 
cumstances of  an  unhappy  time  a  Little  personal 
Acrimony  Might  be  justifiable  in  your  sex,  Must 
not  the  female  Character  suffer  and  will  she  not  be 
suspected  as  Deficient  in  the  most  Amiable  part 
thereof  that  Candour  &  Charity  which  ensures  her 
both  Affection  &  Esteem  if  she  indulges  her  pen  to 
paint  in  the  Darkest  Shades  even  shapes  whom 
Vice  &  Venality  have  Eendered  Contemptible  ?  " 

He  responds  with  a  set  of  generalities  calcu- 
lated to  lay  her  scruples  to  rest,  but,  neverthe- 
less, assuming  a  dangerous  infallibility :  — 

BRAIXTREE  March  15  1775 

MADAM,  —  In  requesting  my  opinion,  Madam, 
concerning  a  Point  of  Casuistry,  you  have  done 
me  great  honour,  and  I  should  think  myself  very 
happy  if  I  could  remove  a  Scruple  from  a  Mind, 
which  is  so  amiable  that  it  ought  not  to  have  one 
upon  it. —  Personal  Eeflections,  when  they  are  art- 
fully resorted  to,  in  order  to  divert  the  Attention 
from  Truth,  or  from  Arguments,  which  cannot  be 
answered,  are  mean  and  unjustifiable:  but  We  must 
give  up  the  distinction  between  Virtue  and  Vice, 
before  we  can  pronounce  personal  Reflections,  always 
unlawful,  —  Will  it  be  said  that  We  must  not  pro- 
nounce Catiline  a  Conspirator,  and  Borgia  a  Ras- 
cal], least  we  should  be  guilty  of  casting  personal 
Reflections  —  ?  The  faithfull  Historian  delineates 
11  161 


MERCY   WARREN 

Caracters  truly,  let  the  Censure  fall  where  it  will. — 
The  public  is  so  interested  in  public  Characters, 
that  they  have  a  Right  to  know  them,  and  it  be- 
comes the  Duty  of  every  good  Citizen  who  happens 
to  be  acquainted  with  them  to  communicate  his 
Knowledge.  There  is  no  other  way  of  preventing 
the  Mischief  which  may  be  done  by  ill  Men;  no 
other  Method  of  administering  the  Antidote  to  the 
Poison.  — 

Christianity  Madam,  is  so  far  from  discounte- 
nancing the  severest  Discrimination,  between  the 
good  and  the  bad,  that  it  assures  us  of  the  most 
public  &  solemn  one  conceivable,  before  Angells 
and  Men;  and  the  Practice  and  Example  of  Proph- 
etts,  and  Apostles,  is  sufficient  to  Sanctify  Satyr 
of  the  Sharpest  Kind. 

The  Truth  is,  Madam,  that,  the  best  Gifts  are 
liable  to  the  worst  uses  &  abuses,  a  Talent  at 
Satyr,  is  commonly  mixed  with  the  choicest  Powers 
of  Genius  and  it  has  such  irrisistable  Charms,  in 
the  Eyes  of  the  World,  that  the  extravagant  Praise, 
it  never  fails  to  extort,  is  apt  to  produce  extrav- 
agant Vanity  in  the  Satirist,  and  an  exuberant 
Fondness  for  more  Praise,  untill  he  looses  that  cool 
Judgment  which  alone  can  justify  him. 

If  we  look  into  human  Nature,  and  run  through 
the  various  classes  of  Life,  we  shall  find  it  is  really 
a  dread  of  Satyr  that  restrains  our  Speeches  from 
exorbitances,  more  than  Laws,  human,  moral  or 
divine,  indeed  the  Efficacy  of  civil  Punishments  is 
derived  chiefly  from  the  same  source.  —  ...  But 
162 


LITERARY  WORK 

classical  Satyr,  such  as  flows  so  naturally  &  eas- 
ily from  the  Pen  of  my  excellent  Friend,  has  all 
the  Efficacy,  and  more,  in  Support  of  Virtue  and 
in  Discountenancing  of  Vice,  without  any  of  the 
Coarseness  and  Indelicacy  of  those  other  Species  of 
Satyr,  the  civil  and  political  ones.  .  .  . 

Of  all  the  Genius's  whch  have  yet  arisen  in 
America,  there  has  been  none,  superiour  to  one, 
which  now  shines,  in  this  happy,  this  exquisite 
Faculty, —  indeed,  altho  there  are  many  which  have 
received  more  industrious  Cultivation  I  know  of 
none,  ancient  or  modern,  which  has  reached  the 
tender  the  pathetic,  the  keen  &  severe,  and  at  the 
same  time,  the  soft,  the  sweet,  the  amiable  and 
the  pure  in  greater  Perfection. 

Weigh  the  drop  of  honey  "at  the  end !  No 
wonder  my  lady  went  on  satirizing.  No 
wonder  either  that,  in  her  old  age,  in  all 
innoccncy,  she  dealt  out  to  Mr.  Adams  him- 
self the  sauce  he  had  prescribed  for  others, 
and  "  drew  "  his  character  as  she  honestly  saw 
it.  His  was  a  dissertation  which  he  may 
have  been  ironically  amused  to  remember 
when  his  own  turn  came.  But  she  did  noth- 
ing wantonly  and  in  unconsidered  haste. 
These  were  no  random  shots  sped  in  feminine 
light-mindedness  or  malice.  They  were  mis- 
siles of  warfare  in  a  righteous  cause.  She 
was  among  the  skirmishers  who  supplement  y 

163 


MERCY  WARREN 

the  regular  troops,  and  she  primed  her  guns 
as  carefully  as  they.  In  1776,  she  wrote  John 
Adams :  — 

"  Do  you  Remember  the  Requests  of  my  Last 
Cant  you  get  Liberty  Cannot  you  furnish  me  with 
the  characters  transactions  and  Views  of  some  of 
the  Busiest  players  of  the  political  Game.  I  want 
to  know  a  Little  More  of  the  philadelphian  system, 
not  merely  from  female  curiosity  but  for  another 
Reason  which  you  shall  know  hereafter." 

She  wants  her  groundwork.  She  will  have 
knowledge,  and  do  no  dishonest  fighting  in 
the  dark. 

Of  all  her  work,  The  Group  is  most  incisive, 
most  earnest,  and  was  probably  widest-reach- 
ing in  its  influence.  It  was  evidently  sent  to 
her  husband  as  the  various  scenes  were  com- 
pleted, and  proudly  submitted  by  him  to  his 
associates  under  seal  of  confidence.  But  the 
secret  was  an  open  one.  Mrs.  Warren's  name 
needed  no  mention;  no  intellect  was  so  poor 
as  not  to  guess  out  the  "incomparable  satyr- 
ist."  James  Warren  lost  no  time  in  commu- 
nicating it  to  John  Adams.  January  15, 1775, 
he  writes  him :  — 

"  Inclosed  are  for  your  amusement  two  Acts  of 
a  dramatic  performance  composed  at  my  particular 
desire,  they  go  to  you  as  they  came  out  of  the 

164 


LITERARY  WORK 

hand  of  the  Copier,  without  pointing  or  markirse 
If  you  think  it  worth  while  to  make  any  othe^ 
use  of  them  than  a  reading  you  will  prepare  them 
in  that  way  &  give  them  such  other  Corrections 
&  Amendments  as  your  good  Judgment  shall 
suggest." 

But  the  secret  is  too  open,  and  a  month 
later  the  following  letter  was  written :  — 

11  A  certain  Lady  of  your  Acquaintance  is  much 
Concerned  at  hearing  it  is  reported  that  she  wrote 
the  Group.  Parson  Howe  tol$  a  large  Company 
at  Table  that  she  was  the  Author  of  it.  if  this 
was  true  how  came  he  by  his  information,  would 
a  certain  friend  of  ours  have  so  little  discretion 
as  to  Communicate  such  a  matter  to  his  parson  if 
he  knew  &  much  less  if  he  only  Conjectured  it. 
do  speak  to  him  about  it.  if  he  has  set  his  parson 
a  prating  he  ought  to  stop  him." 

There  was  soon  popular  call  for  the  com- 
position, and  on  May  21,  1775,  John  Adams 
writes  James  Warren  from  Philadelphia:  — 

"  One  half  the  Group  is  printed  here,  from  a 
Copy  printed  in  Jamaica.  Pray  send  me  a  printed 
Copy  of  the  whole  &  it  will  be  greedily  reprinted 
here,  my  friendship  to  the  Author  of  it." 

The  Group  is  a  boldly  satirical  piece  of 
work,  which  we  are  forced  to  consider  a  farce 

163 


MERCY  WARREN 

tbause  the  titlepage  bids  us.  The  inscrip- 
lon  at  the  start  sets  forth  its  scope  and  inten- 
tion: "As  the  great  business  of  the  polite 
world  is  the  eager  pursuit  of  amusement,  and 
as  the  Public  diversions  of  the  season  have 
been  interrupted  by  the  hostile  parade  in  the 
capital ;  the  exhibition  of  a  new  farce  may  not 
be  unentertaining.  THE  GROUP,  as  lately 
acted,  and  to  be  re-acted  to  the  wonder  of  all 
superior  intelligences,  nigh  head-quarters  at 
Amboyne. " 

To  us,  save  as  a  literary  curiosity,  Mrs. 
Warren's  farce  is  eminently  dull ;  but  we 
must  not  forget  that  its  reason  for  existing 
has  itself  ceased  to  be.  To  an  inflamed 
patriotism  it  must  have  been  a  vivid  delight 
to  find  the  enemies  of  peace  held  up  bleeding 
under  the  eye  of  day,  to  hear  some  one  voice 
the  hot  rancor  of  every  heart  and  say  what  all 
patriots  would  fain  have  said  themselves  had 
they  been  clever  enough.  The  author  frankly 
avows  her  purpose  at  the  outset,  cannily 
prophesying  that  her  Prologue  "  cannot  fail  of 
pleasing  at  this  crisis  " :  — 

"  What !  arm'd  for  virtue,  and  not  point  the  pen. 
Brand  the  bold  front  of  shameless  guilty  men, 
Dash  the  proud  Gamester  from  his  gilded  car, 
Bare  the  mean  heart  which  lurks  beneath  a  star. 


166 


LITERARY  WORK 

Shall  I  not  strip  the  gilding  off  a  knave, 

Uuplac'd,  unpension'd,  no  man's  heir  or  slave  1          ^6 

I  will  or  perish  in  the  gen'rous  cause ; 

Hear  this  and  tremble,  ye  who  'scape  the  laws." 

To  my  mind  the  last  four  lines  amply 
express  the  author  and  her  attitude :  — 

"  Yes,  while  I  live,  no  rich  or  noble  knave 
Shall  walk  the  world  in  credit  to  his  grave ; 
To  virtue  only,  and  her  friends,  a  friend, 
The  world  beside  may  murmur  or  commend." 

This  was  Dame  Warren  indeed,  crystalline 
in  purpose,  uncompromising  in  word  and 
judgment.  Her  condition  of  mind  is  only 
impaired  by  the  foil  of  those  virtues,  the  too 
rash  attempt  to  answer  the  old  question, 
"  What  is  truth  ?  "  It  is  all  very  well  to 
gibbet  your  villain ;  but  to  fulfil  all  the  con- 
ditions of  Rhadamanthine  justice,  be  sure  you 
prove  him  so.  Mrs.  Warren  was  the  voice  of 
the  time,  but  that  this  was  a  somewhat  too 
ruthless  voice  is  evident  in  her  portraiture  of 
Governor  Hutchinson:  a  Tory  to  be  sure,  a 
man  faithful  rather  to  the  crown  than  alive  to 
this  alarming  fever  of  Colonial  revolt,  and  a 
man  who,  like  even  the  patriots,  thought  all 
fair  in  war,  and  thus  succeeded  in  rous- 
ing against  himself  a  sort  of  hydrophobia 
madness. 

Her  dramatis  persona  are  the  vanguard,  and 

167 


MERCY  WARREN 

the  attack  by  the  very  significance  of 
neir  names,  of  which  Hateall,  Humbug, 
,  Spendall,  Mushroom,  and  Dupe  are  the  more 
significant.  The  .first  stage  direction  inevi- 
tably recalls  the  remark  of  that  American 
millionnaire  who,  in  suggesting  a  statue,  bid 
for  "  a  female  figure  reflecting  on  the  future 
prospects  of  America. "  Her  setting  is  equally 
vague,  equally  ideal  and  emphatic ;  but  let  us 
not  smile,  for  to  those  who  read,  it  was  easy, 
from  the  properties  of  a  fiery  imagination,  to 
construct  even  from  such  dramatic  qualities  a 
burning  scene.  For,  behold !  the  actors  in  this 
avowedly  satirical  production  are  "attended 
by  a  swarm  of  court  sycophants,  hungry  har- 
pies, and  unprincipled  danglers,  .  .  .  hover- 
ing over  the  stage  in  the  shape  of  locusts,  led 
by  Massachusettensis  in  the  form  of  a  basilisk ; 
the  rear  brought  up  by  proteus,  bearing  a 
torch  in  one  hand,  and  a  powder-stalk  in  the 
other:  The  whole  supported  by  a  mighty  army 
and  navy,  from  blunder-land,  for  the  laudible 
purpose  of  enslaving  its  best  friends." 

Never  was  there  a  more  frankly  partisan 
piece  of  work,  showing,  according  to  the 
patriotic  standpoint,  vice  "her  own  image." 
One  overmastering  joy  of  the  performance  lies 
in  the  fact  that  out  of  their  own  mouths 
are  the  public  enemies  condemned.  Hateall 

168 


v/ 

LITERARY   WORK 

frankly  avows  himself  to  have  no  purpose 
save  murder  and  pillage.  Others  plead  ambi- 
tion or  weakness  as  their  excuse  for  espous- 
ing the  Tory  cause ;  and  poisoned  epithets  fly 
about  like  angry  hornets.  The  axiom  that 
no  man  shall  criminate  himself  melts  into 
thin  air.  Dame  Mercy,  having  hypnotized 
her  enemies,  forces  them  to  drag  forth  their 
inmost  minds,  and  own  themselves  either 
wilfully  dastard,  or  misled  by  the  arch-traitor 
—  always  Hutchinson  —  into  espousing  a  cause 
manifestly  evil.  They  are  of  that  hopeless 
ilk  who,  knowing  good,  still  choose  the  worst. 
Sylla  voices  the  general  concession  by  refer- 
ring to  "a  brave  insulted  people,"  and  cries 
out  in  a  just  horror  of  self :  — 

"  And  shall  I  rashly  draw  my  guilty  sword  ?  " 

The  entire  Group  of  actors  are  "selfish, 
venal  men."  Their  mutual  confessions  of 
premeditated  guilt  could  be  no  franker  were 
they  irreparably  lost  souls  comparing  crimes 
in  hell.  Her  arrows  stuck.  Hutchinson, 
who  had  before,  in  certain  dramatic  frag- 
ments, figured  as  Rapatio,  was  thenceforth 
not  to  be  known  otherwise  to  the  inner  circles 
of  patriotism,  and  Samuel  Adams's  common- 
place statement,  "Rapatio  is  now  gone  to  y 

169 


MERCY   WARREN 

Middleboro  to  consult  his  Brother  Hazelrod," 
is  after  the  speech  of  the  time. 

The  Group  is  not  included  in  her  miscel- 
laneous works.  It  is  a  very  precious  pam- 
phlet, of  which  the  copy  belonging  to  the 
Boston  Athenaeum  bears,  in  faded  ink,  oppo- 
site the  dramatis  personce,  the  names  they 
wore  among  men.  There  is  something  very 
curious,  very  touching,  in  that  cast  of  charac- 
ters in  these  days  of  reconsidered  verdicts. 
Mercy  Warren  meant  it  for  an  embodied  cata- 
logue of  vices.  It  is  simply  a  list  of  loyalists, 
most  of  them  honest  men,  who  believed  it 
well  not  only  to  serve  God  but  to  honor  the 
King:  — 

Lord  Chief-Justice  Halze- 

rod  [Hazlerod],  Oliver. 

Judge  Meagae  [Meagre],  E.  Hutchinson. 

Brigadier  Hateall,  Kuggles. 

Hum  Humbug,  Esq;  Jn?  Erving. 

Sir  Sparrow  Spendall,  Sir  W.  P.  [William 

Pepperell]. 

Hector  Mushroom,  —  Col.  Murray. 

Beau  Trumps,  Jn°  Vassall. 

Dick,  the  Publican,  Lechniere. 

Monsieur  de  Francois,  N.  E.  Thomas. 

Crusty  Crowbar,  Esq;  J.  Boutineau. 

Dupe,  —  Sec.  of  State,  T.  Flucker. 

Scriblerius  Fribble,  Leonard. 

Commodore  Batteau,  Loring. 
170 


LITERARY   WORK 

Certain  of  these  men  were  hateful  to  the 
patriots  for  special  reasons,  but  all  because 
they  were  loyalists.  The  Oliver  family  was 
especially  detested.  Perhaps  Andrew  had  the 
jleast  claim  on  public  mercy,  because  he  had 
'accepted  the  unfortunate  office  of  stamp  dis- 
tributor, and  did  not  save  his  credit  even  by 
publicly  renouncing  it  under  the  Liberty  Tree, 
in  the  face  of  scornful  thousands.  Peter,  the 
Chief-Justice,  sufficiently  filled  the  eye  to  be 
prosecuted,  banished,  and  to  endure  the  con- 
fiscation of  his  estates.  Elisha  Hutchinson 
was  a  son  of  the  Governor,  and  to  him  and  his 
brother  had  been  consigned  a  third  part  of  the 
tea  destined  to  sacrifice  in  Boston  Harbor. 
To  Timothy  Ruggles  much  might  have  been 
forgiven,  even  at  the  moment  of  his  sturdiest 
opposition,  for  he  had  a  pretty  wit,  albeit  a 
rude  one.  He  was  a  brave  man  and  a  learned. 
That  served  him  no  good  turn  in  the  eyes  of 
his  enemies ;  but  surely  they  may  have  given 
him  one  lenient  smile,  remembering  that  col- 
lege escapade  when,  with  other  irrepressible 
students,  he  stole  a  sign  and  conveyed  it  to 
his  room.  A  suspicious  proctor  came  mous- 
ing up  the  stairs,  but  the  boys  had  locked  the 
door,  put  the  sign  on  the  fire,  and  were  hold- 
ing vigorous  prayer-meeting  till  the  inanimate 
witness  should  be  consumed,  —  for  no  student 

171 


MER&Y  WARREN 

might  be  disturbed  at  prayers.  Meanwhile 
Ruggles  wrestled  passionately  with  the  angel, 
and  cried  aloud:  "A  wicked  and  adulterous 
generation  seeketh  after  a  sign ;  and  there 
shall  no  sign  be  given  unto  it,  but  the  sign  of 
the  prophet  Jonas." 

But  to  enter  Mrs.  Warren's  catalogue  of 
crime  it  was  not  necessary  to  have  risen  in 
armed  resistance  to  Colonial  freedom.  It  was 
sufficient,  as  in  the  case  of  Lechmere  and 
Erving,  to  have  signed  loyal  addresses  to  Gage 
and  Hutchinson.  To  Boutineaii,  somewhat  of 
a  personal  interest  attaches  in  the  fact  that  he 
was  the  father-in-law  of  John  Robinson,  who, 
in  1769,  had  been  guilty  of  the  attack  on  James 
Otis.  He  defended  Robinson  in  the  resulting 
suit,  and  when  the  man  was  judged  guilty  and 
assessed  two  thousand  pounds'  damages,  signed 
in  his  own  name  the  submission  craving  Otis's 
pardon.  Thereupon  the  latter  released  the 
offender  from  payment  of  his  bond. 

The  Group  was  submitted  to  Mrs.  Warren's 
little  public  (parva  sed  aptaf)  in  parts,  as 
scenes  were  completed.  It  is  delightful  to 
see  how  humbly  she  set  all  her  work  before 
one  indulgent  critic,  her  husband.  One  poem, 
despatched  when  there  was  much  to  hear  and 
answer,  can  be  no  other  than  the  effusion  on 
the  Tea  Party,  to  which  she  refers  as  a  "  per- 

172 


LITERARY   WORK 


formance  done  in  consequence  of  the  request 
of  a  much  respected  friend.  It  was  wrote  off 
with  little  attention  ...  I  do  not  think  it 
has  sufficient  merit  for  the  public  eye. "  She 
adds : — 

"  I  now  send  you  another  scene  of  the  Group  — 
this  you  will  dispose  of  as  you  judge  proper,  but 
whatever  you  do  with  either  of  them  you  will 
doubtless  be  careful  that  the  author  is  not  exposed 
and  hope  your  particular  friends  will  be  convinced 
of  the  propriety  of  not  naming  her  at  present." 

It  must  have  been  a  fond  pride  with  which 
James  Warren  displayed  the  work  of  his 
^"little  angel,"  conscious  that  it  could  chal- 
lenge criticism  among  such  men  as  his  asso- 
ciates. Even  at  that  time,  when  women  were 
willing  to  take  the  bitter  with  the  sweet  and 
own  themselves  weaker  as  well  as  fair,  Mercy 
Warren  had,  so  far  as  her  husband  was  con- 
cerned, all  the  rights  she  could  have  desired, 
—  a  faith  and  tender  homage  which  left  her 
free  to  act. 

Later  she  made  a  timid  effort  to  see  her 
tragedies  in  print,  perhaps  even  (0  last 
infirmity  of  all  our  noble  minds !)  on  the 
stage.  She  writes  John  Adams,  adviser, 
friend,  and  confidant :  — 

173 


MERGY  WARREN 

MILTON  Jan  4th  1787 

SIR,  —  The  most  of  my  leasure  hours  since  I 
have  resided  on  the  Hill  at  Milton  have  been 
devoted  to  my  pen,  yet  I  have  never  adventured 
to  lay  any  of  the  productions  before  the  public 
eye.  But  I  have  such  full  confidence  in  your 
judgment  &  friendship  that  I  now  submit  to  you 
either  to  dispose  of  to  the  best  advantage  or  to 
return  by  some  safe  hand  a  Dramatic  Work  com- 
posed about  two  years  since,  &  locked  up  privately 
in  my  cabinet.  I  am  sensible  the  writing  an  un- 
exceptionable tragedy  requires  Judgment  Genius 
&  Leasure.  There  fore  [I]  have  felt  a  grteat  degree 
of  diffidence  in  the  Attempt  &  own  myself  a  very 
improper  judge  of  the  merits  of  the  execution. 
But  two  or  three  judicious  friends  to  whom  I  have 
shown  it  have  pronounced  so  favourably  as  to  in- 
duce me  to  offer  it  to  your  inspection  Who  I  know 
will  make  the  most  candid  &  generous  use  thereof. 

I  am  told  that  works  of  this  nature  when  they 
happen  to  strike  will  yeald  a  considerable  profit 
by  the  sale,  —  I  had  no  Views  of  this  kind  when 
it  was  written,  &  it  is  now  far  from  being  a 
primary  object,  it  was  wrote  at  the  request  of 
a  young  Gentleman  &  Friend  of  yours  while  sepa- 
rated from  his  Connexions  &  Country.  But  as 
I  am  informed  it  is  customary  for  Men  even  of 
Fortune  &  ability  in  the  Country  where  you  re- 
side not  to  give  away  their  time  —  it  may  not  be 
thought  censuarable  for  your  American  correspond- 
174 


LITERARY  WORK 

ent  to  make  the  best  use  of  hers  both  for  herself 
&  her  family.  Therefore  if  at  any  Value  you  will 
dispose  of  this  little  Work  to  the  most  advantage 
of  your  friends :  if  it  is  of  none  you  will  never 
expose  the  temerity  that  attempted  it. 

To  no  other  Person  would  I  entrust  the  secret, 
of  no  other  Gentleman  whose  time  is  chiefly  de- 
voted to  the  most  important  National  affairs  would 
I  ask  such  a  favour.  But  having  your  unshaken 
friendship  I  am  sure  it  is  perfectly  safe  and  that 
you  will  not  regret  the  proper  attention  it  may 
require,  you  will  see  the  Dedication  is  to  your- 
self, which  you  will  correct  or  curtail  as  you  shall 
judge  most  for  the  Honour  of  the  Patron  and 
the  Patronized.  Esteem  &  respect  might  have 
prompted  me  to  say  many  more  things  which  are 
justly  due  to  the  character  of  my  Honourable 
Friend  but  anything  that  might  bear  the  smallest 
imputation  of  flattery  would  be  equally  painful  to 
him  &  to  myself.  And  as  I  am  ambitious  to  avoid 
both  the  principles  &  the  stile  of  the  Vulgar  Dedi- 
cation I  have  suppressed  them.  .  .  .  And  shall 
I  go  on  to  tell  you  sir  that  certain  annals  recorded 
as  events  took  place  have  lately  been  thrown  into 
a  concise  History  of  the  American  Eevolution  by 
the  same  Hand. 

Mr.  Adams's  reply  is  dated  "London  Deer 

251787":  — 

MADAM,  —  The   Sack   of    Borne    has   so    much 
merit  in  itself  that  for  the  honour  of  America,  I 
175 


MERGY    WARREN 

should  wish  to  see  it  acted  on  the  Stage  in  London. 
The  Dedication  of  it  does  so  much  honour  to  me, 
that  I  should  be  proud  to  see  it  in  print  even  if 
it  could  not  he  acted.  I  have  shewn  it,  in  dis- 
creet Confidence  to  several  good  judges,  but  least 
their  opinion  might  not  be  satisfactory  I  procured 
it  at  last  to  be  seriously  read  by  several  of  the 
first  tragical  Writers  in  this  nation,  among  whom 
were  the  Author  of  the  Grecian  Daughter  and  the 
Author  of  the  Carmelite.  They  have  noted  their 
opinion  in  a  writing  that  is  inclosed.  It  requires 
almost  as  much  interest  and  Intrigue  to  get  a  Play 
Acted,  as  to  be  a  Member  of  Parliament,  and  a 
printed  Play  that  has  not  been  Acted  will  not  sell 
—  I  have  not  been  able  to  find  a  Printer  who 
would  accept  the  Copy  on  Condition  of  printing  it. 
In  short  nothing  American  sells  here.  Ram- 
says  History  Dvvight  &  Barlows  Poems  are  not 
sold,  nor,  I  fear  will  Dr  Gordons  notwithstanding 
the  .  .  .  materials  he  must  be  possessed  of. 

The  Adulator  and  The  Retreat  had  preceded 
The  Group,  and  though  far  less  harmonious 
in  conception,  they  were  equally  incisive  and 
pregnant  of  result  These  were  fragments 
suggested  by  the  discovery  of  the  Hutchinson 
and  Oliver  letters,  —  private  letters  warm 
with  personal  conclusions  which  Dr.  Franklin 
had  secured  in  England  and  sent  back  to 
America,  on  condition  that  they  should  not  be 

176 


LITERARY   WORK 

printed,  and  that  they  should  be  returned,  no 
copies  having  been  taken.  Through  a  wily 
combination  of  circumstances,  they  did  get 
into  print,  and  their  perusal  inflamed  the 
patriots  to  frenzy.  In  the  after-light  of  his- 
torical reflection,  they  seem  to  hint  at  no 
more  pronounced  opinion  than  the  writers 
themselves  had  sustained  in  public ;  and  alto- 
gether the  case  made  "  a  marvelously  strong 
illustration  of  the  most  vehement  possible 
cry,  with  the  slightest  possible  amount  of 
wool." 

But  not  such  were  the  fatal  documents  at 
the  moment.  They  proved  a  terrible  motive 
power  to  precipitate  results.  In  these  two 
dramatic  fragments  of  Mrs.  Warren's,  Hutch- 
inson  is  always  Rapatio,  the  hated,  the  venal, 
the  hypocrite  doubly  damned  because  he 
sinned  by  intention  and  love  of  self  and 
intrinsic  evil.  Let  the  author  herself  define 
her  motive  in  writing  them :  — 

11  At  a  period  when  America  stood  trembling  for 
her  invaded  liberty  when  the  refined  acts  of  certain 
interested  politians  had  spread  the  tales  of  false- 
hood untill  the  people  as  usual  were  deceived  in 
characters  .  .  .  several  dramatic  sketches  were  of- 
fered the  public  with  a  design  to  strip  the  Vizard 
from  the  Crafty. 

"  The  writer  recollecting  the  maxim  of  the  Car- 
12  177 


MERCY  WARREN 

dinal  de  Eetz  that  '  a  song  will  sometimes  more 
forcibly  impress  the  necessary  political  operations 
than  the  most  solid  arguments  or  the  most  judi- 
cious reasonings,'  advertised  March,  1772,  to  be 
exhibited  for  the  entertainment  of  the  public  at 
the  grand  parade  in  upper  Servia  the  Adulator  a 
theatrical  performance  of  three  acts." 

Then  follows  a  cast  of  characters  quite  as 
significant  as  that  of  The  Group,  wherein 
Governor  Hutchinson  figures  as  Rapatio, 
Bashaw  of  Servia ;  Andrew  Oliver  as  Limpet, 
Peter  Oliver  as  Hazelrod,  and  James  Otis  as 
Brutus,  Senator. 

"The  above  Dramatic  Extract  was  deemed  so 
characteristic  of  the  times  and  the  persons  to  whom 
applied  that  it  was  honoured  with  the  voice  of  gen- 
eral approbation : —  but  before  the  author  thought 
proper  to  present  another  scene  to  the  public  it 
was  taken  up  and  interlarded  with  the  productions 
of  an  unknown  hand.  The  plagiary  swelled  the 
Adulator  to  a  considerable  pamphlet,  this  led  the 
author  of  the  sketch  when  she  again  resumed  the  de- 
sign of  bringing  the  delinquents  on  the  stage  to  give 
a  new  title." 

jjfri"       As  a  proper  prologue,  the  author  has  selected 
"eight  lines  from  a  celebrated  writer:  "  — 

"  Oh !  how  I  laugh  when  I  a  blockhead  see 
Thanking  a  villain  for  his  probity. 
178 


LITERARY  WORK 

Who  stretches  oat  a  most  respectful  ear 
With  snares  for  Wood-Cocks  ill  his  holy  leer; 
It  tickles  through  my  soul  to  see  the  Cock's 
Sincere  encomiums  on  his  friend  the  Fox, 
Sole  patron  of  her  liberties  and  rights 
While  graceless  Reynard  listens  till  he  bites." 

Within  this  list  of  characters  there  is  an 
overpowering  scale  of  virtues;  for  after  the 
Tory  contingent,  appear,  in  conscious  recti- 
tude :  — 

Helvidius,  Hon.  J.  "Winthrop,  Esq. 

Cassius,  "      S.  Adams,         " 

Hortensius,  "      J.  Adams,          " 

Eusticus,  "      J.  Warren,         " 
Honestus,  <(     J.  Bowdoin,       " 

Brutus,  "     J.  Otis,  " 

In  1790,  appeared  the  little  book  of  Poems 
Dramatic  and  Miscellaneous  Printed  at  Boston, 
by  I.  Thomas  and  E.  T.  Andrews,  At  Faust's 
Statue,  No.  45,  Newbury  Street.  The  dedi- 
cation was,  like  all  her  work,  submitted  to 
James  Warren.  Though  anything  but  a  liter- 
ary man,  he  evidently  filled  for  her  the 
requirements  of  taste  and  solid  sense ;  or 
perhaps  she  took  pleasure,  like  other  loving 
womankind,  in  assuming  for  him  a  headship 
over  her  own  province  as  well  as  his.  This 
dedication  was  to  "  George  Washington,  Presi- 
dent of  the  United  States  of  America, "  and  it 

179 


MERCY  WARREN 

brought  forth   a  letter  in  that  gentleman's 
usual  restrained  and  courtly  style :  — 

NEW  YORK,  June  4, 1790. 

MADAM,  —  I  did  not  receive  before  the  last  Mail 
the  letter  wherein  you  favored  me  with  a  copy  of 
the  Dedication  which  you  propose  affixing  to  a 
"Work  preparing  for  publication.  —  Although  I  have 
ever  wished  to  avoid  being  drawn  into  public  view 
more  than  was  essentially  necessary  for  public  pur- 
poses; yet,  on  the  present  occasion,  duly  sensible 
of  the  merits  of  the  respectable  and  admirable 
writer  I  shall  not  hesitate  to  accept  the  intended 
honor. 

With  only  leisure  to  thank  you  for  your  indul- 
gent sentiments,  and  to  wish  that  your  Work  may 
meet  with  the  encouragement  which  I  have  no 
doubt  it  deserves,  I  hasten  to  present  the  compli- 
ments of  Mrs.  Washington,  and  to  subscribe  myself, 
with  great  esteem  and  regard, 

Madam, 

Your  Most  Obedient  and  Very  Humble  Serv*, 
G.  WASHINGTON. 

Several  months  afterwards  came  his  distin- 
guished recognition  of  the  work  itself :  — 

MT.  VERNON,  Nov.  4th,  1790. 

MADAM, — My  engagements   since   the   receipt 

of  your  letter  of  the  12th  of  Sept.,  with  which  I 

was   honored   two   days   ago,    have    prevented   an 

attentive  perusal  of  the  Book  that  accompanied  it 

180 


LITERARY  WORK 

—  but,  from  the  reputation  of  its  Author  —  from 
the  parts  I  have  read  —  and  from  a  general  idea 
of  the  pieces,  I  am  persuaded  of  its  gracious  and 
distinguished  reception  by  the  friends  of  virtue 
and  science. 

George  Washington  was  not  alone  in  com- 
mending it  to  "virtue  and  science,"  and 
Samuel  Adams's  congratulatory  note  in  ac- 
knowledging a  copy  but  voices  the  delighted 
admiration  of  a  widening  circle:  — 

"However  foolishly  some  European  writers  may 
have  Sported  with  American  Eeputation  for  Genius, 
Literature  and  Science :  I  know  not  where  they 
will  find  a  female  Poet  of  their  own  to  prefer  to 
the  ingenious  Author  of  these  Compositions." 

The  book  is  chiefly  occupied  by  two  long' 
and  very  dull  tragedies:  The  Sack  of  Rome 
and  The  Ladies  of  Castile, — dull,  yet  truly 
significant  in  that  they  mirror  the  constant 
tendency  of  the  author's  mind.  Throughout1- 
her  life  she  was  almost  morbidly  apprehensive 
over  the  danger  which  might  befall  the  hardier  ) 
virtues  of  a  state  by  the  enervating  approaches 
of  luxury.  The  old  Spartan  principles  of  toil 
and  endurance  were,  in  her  mind,  never  too 
austere.  In  her  preface  to  The  Sack  of  Rome 
she  avows  the  motives  which  have  led  her  to 
select  the  period  in  question :  — 

181 


MERCY  WARREN 

(t  The  subversion  of  the  western  empire,  and  the 
Sack  of  the  city  of  Rome,  by  Genseric,  form  an  era 
in  the  revolution  of  human  affairs,  that  strikes  the 
mind  with  peculiar  solemnity:  Perhaps,  at  that 
period,  the  character  of  man  was  sunk  to  the  lowest 
stage  of  depravity.  Debilitated  by  the  habits  of 
every  species  of  luxury,  a  long  series  of  tragical 
events,  and  the  continual  apprehensions  of  pro- 
scription, or  death;  the  powers  of  the  mind  were, 
at  the  same  time,  obscured  by  the  superstitions  of 
weak,  uninformed  Christians,  blended  with  the 
barbarism  and  ignorance  of  the  darker  ages.  .  .  . 

"In  tracing  the  rise,  the  character,  the  revolu- 
tions, and  the  fall  of  the  most  politic  and  brave, 
the  most  insolent  and  selfish  people,  the  world  ever 
exhibited,  the  hero  and  the  moralist  may  find  the 
most  sublime  examples  of  valour  and  virtue;  and 
the  philosopher  the  most  humiliating  lessons  to  the 
pride  of  man,  in  the  turpitude  of  some  of  their 
capital  characters :  While  the  extensive  dominions 
of  that  once  celebrated  nation,  their  haughty  usur- 
pations and  splendid  crimes,  have  for  ages  furnished 
the  historian  and  the  poet  with  a  field  of  specula- 
tion, adapted  to  his  own  peculiar  talents.  But 
if  the  writer  of  the  Sack  of  Home  has  mistaken 
her's,  she  will,  doubtless,  be  forgiven,  as  there 
have  been  instances  of  men  of  the  best  abilities 
who  have  fallen  into  the  same  error." 

She  concludes  with  one  paragraph  which 
strikes  pathetically  upon  the  ear  of  every  man 

182 


LITERARY  WORK 

or  woman  of  letters  who  has  been  bitten  by 
that  peculiar  madness,  —  the  desire  to  write 
a  play  and  to  see  its  characters  rise  and 
walk:  — 

"Theatrical  amusements  may,  sometimes,  have 
been  prostituted  to  the  purposes  of  vice ;  yet,  in  an 
age  of  taste  and  refinement,  lessons  of  morality, 
and  the  consequences  of  deviation,  may  perhaps, 
be  as  successfully  enforced  from  the  stage,  as  by 
modes  of  instruction,  less  censured  by  the  severe ; 
while,  at  the  same  time,  the  exhibition  of  great 
historical  events,  opens  a  field  of  contemplation  to 
the  reflecting  and  philosophic  mind." 

The  Ladies  of  Castile  is  equally  significant 
of  her  temper  of  mind.  Her  son  Winslow, 
then  abroad,  had  suggested  her  writing  a 
tragedy,  and  the  stately  preface,  addressed  to 
"a  Young  Gentleman  in  Europe,"  indicates 
an  equally  characteristic  motive  for  her  choice 
of  this  Spanish  period.  Winslow  had  pro- 
hibited an  American  subject,  and  "  seemed  to 
have  no  predilection  in  favor  of  British  inci- 
dent. Therefore,  notwithstanding  events  in 
the  western  world  have  outrun  imagination, 
notwithstanding  the  magnitude  of  prospect  a 
rising  empire  displays,  and  the  many  tragical 
scenes  exhibited  on  an  island  whence  it  derived 
its  origin,  I  have  recurred  to  an  ancient  story 

183 


MERCY  WARREN 

in  the  annals  of  Spain,  in  her  last  struggles 
for  liberty,  previous   to  the   complete  estab- 
lishment   of     despotism    by    the     family    of 
v^Ferdinand. " 

Liberty,  always  liberty!  And  in  a  solilo- 
quy of  Donna  Maria,  wife  of  the  commander 
of  the  Spanish  troops,  certain  significant 
words  might  have  been  spoken  by  Mercy 
Warren  herself,  in  a  like  tragic  exigency: 

"  But  if,  ungratefully,  ye  spurn  the  gift, 
And  fly  the  field,  and  yield  the  proffer'd  prize  — 
Bend  thy  weak  necks,  and  servilely  submit, 
Affronted  virtue  leaves  such  dastard  slaves 
To  faint  and  tremble  at  a  despot's  nod. 

"  I,  for  myself,  a  bolder  part  design ; 
And  here,  before  the  soldiers  and  the  Cortes, 
In  presence  of  the  eternal  King,  I  swear, 
Most  solemnly  I  bind  my  free  born  soul, 
Ere  I  will  live  a  slave,  and  kiss  the  hand 
That  o'er  my  country  clanks  a  servile  chain, 
I  '11  light  the  towers,  and  perish  in  the  flames, 
And  smile  and  triumph  in  the  general  wreck. 

"  Come,  shew  one  sample  of  heroic  worth, 
Ere  ancient  Spain,  the  glory  of  the  west, 
Bends  abject  down  —  by  all  the  nations  scorn'd  :  — 
Secure  the  city  —  barricade  the  gates, 
And  meet  me  arm'd  with  all  the  faithful  bands  : 
I  '11  head  the  troops,  and  mount  the  prancing  steed ; 
The  courser  guide,  and  vengeance  pour  along 
Amidst  the  ranks,  and  teach  the  slaves  of  Charles 
Not  Semiramis'  or  Zenobia's  fame 
Outstrips  the  glory  of  Maria's  name." 

The  rest  of  the  poems  are  nearly  all  occa- 
sional :  To  Fidelio,  Long  absent  on  the  great 


LITERARY  WORK 

public  Cause,  which  agitated  all  America,  in 
1776,  To  the  Hon.  J.  Winthrop,  Esq.,  To  a 
Young  Gentleman  Residing  in  France,  and 
the  like.  Yet  these  were  not  all.  To  study 
the  pile  of  yellowed  manuscript  in  the  obscure 
but  painstaking  chirography  of  that  hand 
which  seemed  never  to  tire,  is  to  find  page 
after  page  of  rhymed  and  metrical  reflection. 
The  wonder  is,  with  this  Revolutionary  dame, 
fthat  she  found  time  for  such  an  extraordinary 
/amount  of  work.  She  owns  once,  in  a  com- 
fparative  estimate  of  the  status  of  men  and 
women,  that  woman's  mental  labor  is  far 
harder  to  pursue  because  it  must  be  inter- 
rupted by  household  cares;  but  she  says  it 
without  complaint.  Her  own  domestic  life 
was  full  to  the  brim.  She  could  have  found 
little  time  for  literature.  She  had  five  boys 
to  educate  and  train.  She  had  an  enormous 
correspondence;  and  yet,  ever  welling  into 
light,  is  this  irrepressible  desire  to  put  the 
world  into  verse.  She  copies  her  own  letters, 
and  those  of  other  people.  Her  clerical  labors 
are  enough  to  afflict  a  scribe. 

But  this  does  not  prevent  her  from  address- 
ing "  lines  "  to  all  her  little  world.  She  apos- 
trophizes Winter,  paraphrases  the  Nineteenth 
Psalm,  and  prayerfully  indites  a  solemn  Ad- 
dress to  the  Supreme  Being.  Her  unpublished 

185 


MERGY  WARREN 

poems  are  perhaps  more  abounding  in  senti- 
ment and  sensibility  tban  those  which  received 
the  sanction  of  print :  On  reading  the  History 
of  the  Sufferings  of  the  Divine  Eedeemer ;  A 
Thought  in  Sickness ;  A  Thought  on  the  ines- 
timable Blessing  of  Reason;  On  Hearing  of 
the  Sudden  Death  of  a  Sister ;  Alluding  to  the 
Sudden  Death  of  a  Gentleman  a  few  days  after 
Marriage;  On  the  Early  Death  of  two  Beau- 
tiful Young  Ladies  Misses  Eliza  and  Abigail 
Otis;  From  my  Window  in  a  very  Clear 
Starlight  Evening;  Extempore  to  a  Young 
Person  beholding  the  motion  of  a  Clock. 

She  writes  an  interminable  set  of  Alpha- 
betical Maxims  to  her  little  granddaughter 
Marcia,  of  which  she  thought  well  enough  to 
send  them  to  the  Reverend  James  Freeman, 
to  receive  in  return  only  a  courteous  phrase  of 
thanks  with  no  commendation.  They  begin : 

"This  Alphabet,  Marcia,  is  not  made  for  a  child, 
But  for  ripening  merit,  if  not  early  spoil'd :  — 
Do  you  wish  to  be  handsome  ?  — believe  me  tis  true 
There 's  nothing  you  say,  or  aught  you  can  do, 
Will  beauty  improve,  or  adorn  a  fine  face, 
Like  Good-Nature  &  Science,  assisted  by  Grace." 

"Admiration  gazes  with  pleasure  on  a  handsome 
face,  but  beauty  without  the  graces  of  person, 
makes  no  lasting  impression,  and  more  frequently 
disgusts  than  pleases." 

186 


LITERARY  WORK 

And  so  it  trails  its  moralizing  length  to 
Xantippe,  Youth,  and  Zeal.  Poor  little  grand- 
daughter, Mercy  Otis  Warren !  Did  she 
stagger  long  under  the  delusion  that  all  child 
literature  was  like  this  ? 

But  Mercy  Warren's  place  is  not  among  the 
poets.  She  has  left  no  line  so  inevitable,  so 
perfect,  as  to  have  struck  root  into  the  soil 
of  literature,  to  grow  and  flourish  there.  In 
form  she  is  strained  and  artificial,  like  the 
greater  of  her  day ;  and  it  is  only  her  abiding 
earnestness  which  succeeds  in  loosening  the 
shackles  of  too  elaborate  artifice  and  lets  her 
fcreathe  and  speak.  Her  home  is  among  those 
lighting  souls  who  swayed  the  time  through 
(onslaught  upon  special  abuses.  That  her 
work  was  thrown  into  poetical  form  does  not 
debar  her  from  taking  her  rightful  stand] 
among  the  pamphleteers.  For  this  was  the 
__Age  of  the  political  pamphlet.  It  flourished 
as  the  theological  essay  had  done  at  an  earlier^ 
date.  When  the  political  situation  had  become 
unbearable,  and  the  air  was  heavy  with 
thought,  the  lightning  of  words  played  hotly. 
There  was  little  time  for  considered  literary 
effort,  but  great  will  for  hurling  polemical 
fire-balls,  and  they  flew  thick  and  fast. 

The  struggle  had  not  fairly  begun  when 
James  Otis  published  his  Vindication  of  the 

187 


MERCY  WARREN 

Conduct  of  the  House  of  Representatives. 
After  the  Boston  Massacre  and  the  trial  of 
Captain  Preston,  Samuel  Adams,  over  the 
signature  Vindex,  reviewed  the  testimony  in 
a  series  of  papers  tending  to  prove  the  evil 
designs  of  the  British  soldiery,  and  thus 
astutely  fanning  the  flame  of  Colonial  resent- 
ment. John  Dickinson,  the  "Pennsylvania 
Farmer,"  created  much  pother  through  Letters. 
Thomas  Paine's  Common  Sense  struck  a  bold 
blow  in  advocacy  of  an  independent  republic, 
and  that  while  it  was  treason  even  to  formu- 
late the  thought.  John  Adams  entered  the 
arena,  and,  as  Novanglus,  answered  through 
the  newspapers  the  defence  of  Great  Britain 
set  forth  by  Massachusettensis  (Jonathan 
Sewall).  These  letters  appeared  throughout 
the  winters  of  1774  and  1775,  until  the  wordy 
warfare  was  cut  short  by  the  battle  of  Lexing- 
ton ;  and  therein  Adams  traced  the  origin  of 
the  struggle,  and  the  policy  of  Bernard  and 
Hutchinson  with  a  vigor  which  owed  nothing 
to  deliberate  workmanship. 

There  were  many  sucn  pseudonyms,  lightly 
cloaking  patriotic  zeal.  There  were  other 
anonymous  correspondents  as  powerful  and 
fervent,  who  can  never  now  be  traced.  And 
throughout  the  entire  struggle  Mercy  Warren 
hung  upon  the  enemy's  flank  and  harassed 


LITERARY  WORK 

him  without  cessation.  She  was  one  of  the 
gadflies  of  the  war.  A  circumstance  which 
rendered  her  services  invaluable  is  that  she 
was  always  ready.  When  an  egg  was  found 
in  Plymouth,  bearing  the  legend,  "  Howe  will 
conquer,"  it  was  Mrs.  Warren  who  at  once 
sat  down  —  possibly  in  an  interval  of  needle- 
work or  brewing  —  and  wrote  a  counterblast 
in  her  customary  satirical  vein,  reducing  egg 
and  prophecy  to  naught.  A  rhymed  disserta- 
tion on  "  A  Solemn  debate  of  a  certain  bench 
of  Justices  to  form  an  address  to  Governor 
Hutchinson  just  before  he  left  the  Chair "  is 
in  her  own  uncompromising  humor;  but  per- 
haps the  best  of  her  unpublished  work  comes 
under  the  heading,  "An  Extempore  Thought 
on  a  late  flattering  address  to  Governor 
Hutchinson,"  or,  as  she  bitterly  denominates 
it  elsewhere  in  a  hasty  note,  a  "servile  ad- 
dress from  the  long  venerated  Seminary  of 
Harvard  Colledge  " :  — 

"  Oxonia's  sons  in  abject  lays 
Could  chaunt  their  idle  fulsome  praise 

To  Stewarts  treacherous  line ; 
Their  adulating  strains  express 
With  servile  flattery's  address 

And  own  the  right  divine. 

"  Then  Freedom  found  a  safe  retreat 
In  Harvard's  venerated  seat. 
A  liberal  plan  was  layed. 
189 


MERCY  WARREN 

How  will  her  annals  be  disgraced 
How  Harvard's  sons  are  thus  debased 
The  Gen'rous  Works  betrayed. 

"  A  Tyrant's  trophies  to  adorn 
Thy  noble  ancestors  would  scorn 

In  ancient  virtuous  days. 
No  sacred  texts  they  'd  violate 
(But  weep  to  see  thy  fallen  state) 

A  parricide  to  praise." 

Much  as  we  have  in  hand  to  prove  her  zeal 
and  faithfulness,  doubtless  far  more  lies  hid- 
den under  the  seal  of  anonymous  contribu- 
tions. That  one  who  wrote  so  fearlessly  and 
with  so  prolific  a  pen  should  have  given 
abundantly  to  the  newspaper  warfare  of  the 
day  is  inevitable.  She  hints  as  much  in  the 
denial  that  she  wrote  certain  communications 
which  had  been  ascribed  to  her;  but  she 
expresses  no  surprise  at  having  been  thus 
credited.  The  accusation  was  no  new  thing. 
She  was  one  of  the  teachers  of  the  time ;  she 
reiterated,  she  insisted  and  warned.  Like 
John  Adams  in  his  quest  for  gunpowder,  she 
was  determined  to  think  of  nothing  but  lib- 
erty, and  to  repeat  that  splendid  cry  until  the 
echo,  at  least,  came  back  from  other  mouths. 


190 


VIII 
THE  HISTORY   OF  THE  REVOLUTION 

DOUBTLESS  Mrs.  Warren  would  have  con- 
sidered her  History  of  the  Revolution  the 
crowning  labor  of  her  life,  the  evidence  through 
which  it  should  afterwards  be  weighed.  It 
had  been  undertaken,  like  most  of  her  literary 
work,  under  the  spur  of  expectation  and  praise 
from  without.  Her  husband  fondly  urged  her 
to  it,  and  a  circle  of  ever-admiring  friends 
lovingly  demanded  it  of  her.  It  seemed  to 
them  a  fit  tribute  to  be  paid  by  one  who  had 
been  so  nearly  a  part  of  those  colossal  events, 
before  she  should  pass  on  and  leave  the  esti- 
mate of  the  times  to  those  who  might  know 
them  only  by  hearsay.  They  were  ready  to 
assert  full  confidence  in  her  mental  poise  and 
grasp.  But  she  had  her  moments  of  doubt, 
when,  with  afflictions  gathered  round  her,  she 
said,  in  resignation  and  despair,  that  if  the 
work  should  never  be  desired  by  the  public, 
it  would  at  least  be  precious  to  her  children. 
(To  them  alone  it  would  have  a  peculiar  value 
as  the  record  of  their  mother's  mental  life. 

191 


MERCY  WARREN 

An  existing  manuscript  of  those  three  vol- 
umes is  a  pathetic  sight,  and  especially  does 
the  prefatory  inscription  appeal  to  the  heart. 
After  the  publication  of  the  work  it  was  re- 
copied  upon  thick  foolscap  paper,  yellowed 
now  with  age;  it  is  in  the  handwriting  of 
Mrs.  Warren  and  her  son  James,  and  the 
initial  inscription  explains  that  many  notes 
are  included  which  may  be  required  for  the 
second  edition  for  which  this  copy  was  made 
ready.  Sad  confirmation  of  that  uncertainty 
of  result  which  must  ever  pervade  the  world 
of  letters !  For  every  book  is  the  launching  of 
a  little  craft,  in  ignorance  whether  its  light 
is  to  live  or  go  down  into  darkness  and  never 
be  heard  of  more;  and  though  Mrs.  Warren 
might  thriftily  prepare  for  her  second  edition, 
no  one  could  guess  whether  it  would  ever  be 
demanded.  Some  of  the  notes  are  written  on 
scraps  of  paper  fastened  to  the  page  by  old- 
fashioned,  clumsy  pins.  Did  Madam  Warren's 
precise  hand  fix  them  there  ?  So  they  have 
rested  for  more  than  three-quarters  of  a 
century. 

One  note  especially  is  of  much  interest  to 
the  student  of  Boston  society  as  it  existed  a 
hundred  years  ago.  In  the  printed  volume  of 
her  history  Mrs.  Warren  gives  the  following 
stanza,  written  on  the  death  of  James  Otis, 

192 


THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  REVOLUTION 

referring  to  the  author  as   "a  gentleman   of 
poetic  talents":  — 

"  When  God  in  anger  saw  the  spot, 

On  earth  to  Otis  given, 
In  thunder  as  from  Sinai's  mount, 
He  snatch'd  him  back  to  heaven." 

But  in  the  manuscript  note  the  initials  of 
the  author  are  appended :  "  Dr.  S.  C. "  Surely, 
Dr.  Cooper! 

The  History  was  not  published  until  1805, 
but  it  was  completed  before  the  end  of  the 
previous  century.  In  1803,  there  was  talk  of 
a  subscription  list,  and  of  getting  the  work  into 
the  hands  of  the  printer.  And  that  brings 
into  remembrance  one  of  the  most  interesting 
circumstances  connected  with  its  publication, 
—  the  influence  of  its  godfather,  the  Rev. 
James  Freeman,  that  serene  and  lovely  soul 
who  was  in  this  country  the  first  avowed 
preacher  of  Unitarianism  under  that  name. 
He  was  a  literary  man  to  the  finger-tips,  even 
though  he  did  once  say,  with  his  humorous 
gentleness :  — 

"All  books  are  too  long.  I  know  only  one  book 
which  is  not  too  long,  and  that  is  Robinson  Crusoe; 
and  I  sometimes  think  that  a  little  too  long." 

His  letters  to  Mrs.  Warren  especially  appeal 
to  the  student  of  book-making.  Dr.  Freeman 

13  193 


MERCY   WARREN 

was  an  excellent  man  according  to  the  moral 
law,  but  he  had  likewise  a  typographical 
religion  which  is  also,  in  the  eyes  of  many 
among  us,  a  very  good  thing.  Letters  are 
swiftly  exchanged  between  him  and  Mrs. 
Warren  on  this  momentous  subject  of  publish- 
ing a  book,  though  the  birth  was  not  such 
matter  of  travail  as  the  great  Cotton  Mather's 
Magnalia.  Book-making  had  grown  to  be  an 
easier  question  than  in  his  time,  a  century 
before.  But  to  realize  that  life  was  march- 
ing then  as  swiftly  as  it  has  for  us,  since 
Mercy  Warren's  day,  it  is  only  necessary  to 
glance  back  at  the  Sisyphus  labor  of  getting 
into  print  in  1700.  No  one  can  better  Mrs. 
Earle's  paraphrase  of  Mather's  story:  — 

"  At  the  first  definite  plan  which  he  formulated 
in  his  mind  of  his  history  of  New  England,  he 
'cried  mightily  to  God;'  and  he  went  through  a 
series  of  fasts  and  vigils  at  intervals  until  the  book 
was  completed,  when  he  held  extended  exercises  of 
secret  thanksgiving.  Prostrate  on  his  study  floor, 
in  the  dust,  he  joyfully  received  full  assurance  in 
his  heart  from  God  that  his  work  would  be  suc- 
cessful. But  writing  the  book  is  not  all  the  work, 
as  any  author  knows;  and  he  then  had  much  dis- 
tress and  many  troubled  fasts  over  the  best  way  of 
printing  it,  of  transporting  it  to  England;  and 
when  at  last  he  placed  his  *  elaborate  composures ' 
194 


THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  REVOLUTION 

on  shipboard,  he  prayed  an  entire  day.  No  ascetic 
Papist  ever  observed  fastdays  more  rigorously  than 
did  Cotton  Mather  while  his  book  was  on  its  long 
sea-voyage  and  in  England.  He  sent  it  in  June  in 
the  year  1700,  and  did  not  hear  from  it  till  Decem- 
ber. .  .  .  Then  he  learned  that  the  printers  were 
cold;  the  expense  of  publication  would  be  £600.  a 
goodly  sum  to  venture;  it  was  'clogged  by  the 
dispositions'  of  the  man  to  whom  it  was  sent;  it 
was  delayed  and  obstructed;  he  was  left  strangely 
in  the  dark  about  it;  months  passed  without  any 
news.  Still  his  faith  in  God  supported  him.  At 
last  a  sainted  Christian  came  forward  in  London,  a 
stranger,  and  offered  to  print  the  book  at  his  own 
expense  and  give  the  author  as  many  copies  as  he 
wished.  That  was  in  what  Carlyle  called  '  the 
Day  of  Dedications  and  Patrons,  not  of  Bargains 
with  Booksellers.'  In  October,  1702,  after  two 
and  a  half  Icrtig  years  of  waiting,  one  copy  of  the 
wished-for  volume  arrived,  and  the  author  and  his 
dearest  friend,  Mr.  Bromfield,  piously  greeted  it 
with  a  day  of  solemn  fasting  and  praise." 

But  Mercy  Warren  had  much  advice  to  ask, 
and  Dr.  Freeman  was  delightfully  scrupulous 
and  accurate  in  answer.  One  tell-tale  cir- 
cumstance in  his  correspondence  strikes  with 
a  familiar  ring  upon  the  ear,  betokening  the 
hard-pressed  student,  the  dilatory  man  of  let- 
ters who  has  so  much  to  do  with  the  pen  that 
he  takes  it  up  only  under  protest.  For  usually 

195 


MERCY  WARREN 

he  begins  with  an  excuse  for  delay.  He  has 
not  "married  a  wife,"  or  "bought  five  yoke  of 
oxen,"  in  Biblical  phrase,  but  he  has  been  pre- 
vented, unavoidably  prevented,  from  writing 
sooner !  One  paragraph  has  a  peculiar  interest 
for  the  student  of  international  differences, 
concerning,  as  it  does,  our  early  divergence 
from  the  English  on  an  irritating  point:  — 

"Your  letter  respecting  the  letter  u  I  have  not 
yet  rec'd;  but  I  understood,  when  I  had  the  hap- 
piness of  visiting  you  at  Plymouth,  that  it  was 
your  plan  to  leave  it  out  in  all  words  of  Latin 
origin,  such  as  honor,  error,  &  to  retain  it  only  in 
words  of  Saxon  origin,  such  as  endeavour.  Ac- 
cordingly I  directed  Messrs.  Manning  &  Loring  to 
print  in  this  manner.  This  orthography  is  adopted 
by  many  good  authors;  and  as  it  is  begun,  1  would 
advise  you  to  persevere  in  it  to  the  end  of  the 
work." 

He  then  continues  with  that  loving  care  for 
detail  which  distinguishes  the  true  man  of 
letters,  to  say  that  the  best  way  of  judging  a 
titlepage  is  to  have  one  struck  off.  This  the 
printers  shall  do,  according  to  his  direction, 
upon  which  he  will  send  it  for  Mrs.  Warren's 
approval.  For  himself,  he  adds,  with  a  good 
taste  which  might  well  be  emulated  in  this 
modern  day  of  the  revival  of  book-making,  he 
judges  that  a  titlepage  should  be  simple  and 

196 


THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  REVOLUTION 

in  few  words,  and  not  disfigured  with  black 
letters  and  printer's  ornaments.  Then  with 
the  same  studious  consideration,  he  goes  on 
to  speak  of  mottoes,  concerning  which  Mrs. 
Warren  has  asked  his  advice:  — 

The  motto  to  a  title  page  is  generally  a  Latin 
sentence.  The  best  passages  of  the  ancient  authors 
have  been  anticipated  by  former  historians ;  but  the 
following,  I  believe,  have  never  been  used.  — 

Quiafuit  durum  pati, 
Meminisse  dulce  est.    SENECA. 

This  sentence  will  apply  to  the  author  and  her 
friends,  &  to  others  who  took  active  part  in  the 
revolution,  to  whom  it  must  be  pleasant  to  remem- 
ber the  toils  and  dangers  through  which  they  have 


Suave  etiam  belli  certamina  magna  tueri 

Per  compos  instructa,  tud  sine  parte  periculi.    LUCRETIUS. 

These  lines  will  apply  to  the  young  reader,  who 
in  history  contemplates  with  delight  battles  and 
other  scenes  of  distress,  in  the  dangers  of  which  he 
does  not  participate. 

Quern  dies  vidit  veniens  superbum, 

Hunc  dies  vidit  fug  iens  jacentem.     SENECA. 

This  motto  describes  Great  Britain,  whom  at  the 
beginning  of  the  war  we  saw  in  all  the  pride  of 
power,  and  at  its  close  humbled  at  our  feet. 

Invisa  nunquam  imperia  retinentur  diu.     SENECA. 
197 


MERCY  WARREN 

This  verse  also  refers  to  Great  Britain,  whose 
tyrannical  government  did  not  last  long. 

Et  errat  longe  med  quidem  sententia, 

Qui  imperium  credat  yravius  esse  aut  stabilius, 

Vi  quod  fit,  quam  illud  quod  amicitid  adjungitur.    TERENCE. 

These  lines  likewise  apply  to  Great  Britain,  who 
might  have  retained  her  connection  with  the  col- 
onies by  friendship,  but  could  not  by  force. 

Deus  ipse  faces  animumque  ministrat.    VIRGIL. 

This  verse  acknowledges  the  overruling  provi- 
dence of  God,  who  supplied  us  with  arms  and 
courage. 

Quis  credat  tantas  operum  sine  numine  moles.    MANILIUS. 

This  line  is  to  the  same  purpose,  and  may  intend, 
that  so  great  a  work  as  the  American  revolution 
could  not  have  been  effected  without  the  interposi- 
tion of  the  Deity. 

None  of  these  mottoes  please  me  so  well  as  that 
which  you  have  pointed  out.  My  only  motive  in 
suggesting  them  is  to  show  that  I  am  not  inatten- 
tive to  your  request. 

With  great  respect,  I  remain,  dear  Madam, 

your  most  obedt  Serv't, 

JAMES  FKEEMAN. 

However,  in  spite  of  this  array  of  pigeon- 
holed learning  ready  to  her  hand,  Mrs.  War- 
ren kept  to  the  honest  vernacular,  and  her 
page  bears  Saint  Paul's  splendid  antitheses: 

198 


THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  REVOLUTION 

"Troubled  on  every  side  .  .  .  perplexed,  but 
not  in  despair;  persecuted,  but  not  forsaken; 
cast  down,  but  not  destroyed."  And  follow- 
ing it,  the  quotation  from  Shakespeare :  — 

"  O  God  !  thy  arm  was  here  .  .  . 
And  not  to  us,  but  to  thy  arm  alone, 
Ascribe  we  all." 

Further  letters  from  Dr.  Freeman  mark  out 
the  weary  way  trodden  by  authors  when  patron- 
age was  not  a  thing  of  the  past,  since,  in  a 
measure,  subscription  is  patronage.  Before 
publishing,  one  must  get  the  consent  of  one's 
friends.  On  February  22,  1803,  he  writes 
from  Boston:  — 

"The  history,  I  have  110  doubt,  would  meet  with 
a  favorable  reception  from  a  large  part  of  the  com- 
munity. ...  I  would  recommend  that  the  work  be 
published  as  soon  as  possible.  Let  Proposals  for 
printing  it  by  Subscription  be  issued,  and  put  into 
the  hands  of  your  friends,  and  of  the  most  emi- 
nent booksellers  of  the  United  States;  and  in  the 
mean  time  let  a  contract  be  made  with  printers,  who 
will  execute  the  work  in  the  most  correct  and  elegant 
manner,  and  on  the  most  reasonable  terms.  Hav- 
ing had  a  great  deal  of  experience  in  business  of  this 
nature,  I  am  able  to  point  out  Manning  and  Lor- 
ing  as  the  most  suitable  persons.  They  understand 
their  art  perfectly,  and  are  strictly  honest." 
199 


MERCY  WARREN 

Now  comes  the  up-hill  business  of  the  sub- 
scription list.  February  20,  1805,  he  says:  — 

"...  I  have  postponed  writing  you,  till  I 
could  give  you  some  account  of  my  success  in 
obtaining  Subscriptions.  Many  gentlemen,  whom 
I  have  expected  to  meet  in  a  body,  I  have,  from 
unavoidable  accidents,  missed  seeing.  I  have  how- 
ever communicated  the  proposals  to  several  of  my 
friends,  who  have  readily  put  their  names  to  the 
paper.  About  the  beginning  of  March  the  His- 
torical Society  will  assemble,  when  I  shall  not  fail 
to  urge  the  business  to  the  utmost  of  my  power." 

Another  letter,  dated  October  13,  1803,  is 
full  of  a  purely  technical  interest :  — 

MADAM,  —  ...  I  have  seen  Messrs  Manning 
and  Loring,  who,  after  taking  time  for  considera- 
tion, have  communicated  to  me  the  terms  on  wbich 
they  will  engage  to  print  your  History  of  the  Bevo- 
lutionary  War.  If  tbe  work  is  impressed  on  small 
pica  type,  they  demand  sixteen  dollars,  fifty  cents, 
for  their  labour,  a  Sheet,  a  Sheet  containing  six- 
teen pages.  If  on  pica  type,  which  is  of  a  larger 
and  more  suitable  size,  and  on  which  I  presume 
you  made  your  calculation,  the  price  will  be  thir- 
teen dollars,  fifty  cents  a  Sheet.  As  each  volume 
you  say,  will  consist  of  upwards  of  four  hundred 
pages,  I  will  take  it  for  granted  that  the  three  vol- 
umes will  contain  about  thirteen  hundred  pages, 
or  about  eighty-two  sheets.  The  cost  therefore  of 

200 


THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  REVOLUTION 

printing  at  $13.50  a  Sheet  will  be  $1107.  The 
whole  work  will  consume  about  265  reams  of  paper, 
if  fifteen  hundred  copies  are  printed.  The  paper 
ought  to  be  of  the  quality  of  that  which  is  sold  at 
$5  a  ream,  which  will  make  the  expense  of  the 
paper  $1325.  Books  in  this  country  are  commonly 
delivered  to  subscribers  bound  in  leather.  But 
this  is  a  bad  method,  as  a  book  is  much  injured  in 
its  appearance  if  it  is  bound  before  it  has  been 
printed  at  least  a  year.  The  European  practice  of 
publishing  in  boards  is  the  best  on  every  account. 
If  you  should  issue  your  History  in  this  form,  the 
cost  will  be,  for  three  times  fifteen  hundred  vol- 
umes, or  4500  volumes,  at  .10  Cents  each  —  $450. 
The  whole  expense  therefore  (excepting  issuing 
proposals,  advertising,  &c)  will  be  as  follows  : 

$1107-  Printing 

1325-  Paper 

450-  Binding  in  blue  boards 

Total  2882,  which  will  make  each  volume  cost 
you  .64  Cents  or  $1.92  Cents  for  the  three.  The 
volumes  ought  to  be  sold  at  $2  each.  The  sale  there- 
fore of  481  copies  would  cover  the  whole  expense 
(excepting  as  above).  If  the  books  are  bound  in 
Sheep,  the  price  will  be  2  Shillings  each;  if  in 
calf  .75  Cents. 

Mr.  Larkin,  the  bookseller  informs  me  that  he 

has  made  your  son  an  offer  to  publish  the  history 

at  his  own  risk,  paying  you  a  certain  sum  of  money, 

after  eight  hundred  copies  are  sold.     I  believe  him 

201 


MERCY  WARREN 

to  be  an  honourable  man,  and  tbat  his  proposal 
would  be  esteemed  advantageous  by  authors  in 
general. 

An  estimate  of  the  present  year  gives  the 
type-setting  and  press-work  of  the  same  book 
as  $1,316.70,  the  price  of  paper  $500.40,  and 
that  of  binding  in  boards  $585.00,  —  a  total  of 
$2,402.10 ;  proving  at  a  glance  that  labor  has 
become  higher,  while  paper  is  much  reduced. 
Thus  the  identical  books  could  be  manufac- 
tured for  nearly  five  hundred  dollars  less  than 
at  the  beginning  of  the  century.  But  in  at 
least  one  particular  the  most  aesthetic  printing 
of  the  day  coincides  with  the  older  standard ; 
for  Mr.  William  Morris  declares  with  Dr.  Free- 
man that  a  book  should  be  printed  at  least  a 
year  before  being  bound. 

Two  years  later  he  is  writing  to  say  that, 
amid  some  discouragements,  the  subscriptions 
are  coming  in,  and  he  adds :  — 

"I  would  most  cheerfully  undertake  the  correc- 
tion of  the  press,  if  it  is  inconvenient  for  you  to 
attend  to  it;  but  as  the  proofs  are  generally  sent 
in  the  evening,  and  I  never  spend  a  night  in  town, 
I  fear  I  could  not  be  entirely  depended  on.  I  will, 
however,  engage  to  do  what  I  can,  and,  if  agree- 
able to  you,  ask  Mr.  Emerson,  the  minister  of  the 
Old  Brick,  to  supply  my  place,  when  I  am  out  of 

202 


THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  REVOLUTION 

the  way.  He  is  always  ready  to  perform  these 
obliging  offices,  &  I  have  the  most  perfect  confi- 
dence in  his  accuracy.  It  would  be  necessary  to 
have  a  third  person  in  reference ;  and  I  can  think 
of  none  at  present  more  suitable  than  Mr.  George 
Blake,  who  is  a  very  good  scholar." 

With  the  same  nicety  of  dealing  with  detail, 
he  goes  on  to  tell  her  that  an  index  will  be 
necessary,  and  to  give  her  careful  directions 
for  its  compilation.  Finally  he  sends  the 
joyful  news  that  he  has  seen  two  or  three 
proof-sheets,  which  are  eminently  satisfactory, 
and  he  adds,  in  words  calculated  to  reach 
the  heart  of  the  hard-tasked  author  of  any 
time :  — 

"The  progress  of  a  work  through  the  press  is 
to  an  author  of  sensibility  and  talents  a  season  of 
great  anxiety.  I  congratulate  you  that  one  third 
of  these  painful  moments  have  passed.  I  hope  you 
will  soon  have  the  pleasure  of  dispatching  the  last 
proof  sheet,  when  your  mind  being  relieved  of  a 
weight  of  care,  you  can  cheerfully  repeat, 

'  Now  my  tedious  task  is  done, 
I  can  fly,  and  I  can  run.' " 

Perhaps  the  chief  drawback  of  the  History, 
from  a  literary  point  of  view,  is  that  it  proves 
to  be  what  the  titlepage  honestly  leads  you 
to  expect,  "Interspersed  with  Biographical, 


WARREN 

Political,  and  Moral  Observations."  Mrs. 
Warren  was,  as  we  have  been  accustomed  to 
find  her,  too  abstract,  too  sparing  of  the  red 
blood  of  life.  She  is  a  little  dry  and  very 
verbose,  and  it  perhaps  seems  to  us  now  that 
she  had  not  always  a  judicious  discrimination 
as  to  the  relative  value  of  events.  Her  por- 
traits are  very  bold,  very  trenchant,  as  those 
of  an  "  incomparable  satirist  "  must  ever  be ; 
but  they  are  not  portraits  after  the  Clarendon 
type,  —  warm,  living,  and  dressed  in  English 
which  could  not  have  been  imagined  other- 
wise. When  she  wholly  approves  she  is  less 
graphic  than  when  she  recoils  through  moral 
aversion.  Witness  her  characterization  of 
George  Washington,  which  is  exceedingly 
dignified,  but  runs  as  sluggish  as  a  fenland 
stream :  — 

"Mr.  Washington  was  a  gentleman  of  family 
and  fortune,  of  a  polite,  but  not  a  learned  educa- 
tion; he  appeared  to  possess  a  coolness  of  temper, 
and  a  degree  of  moderation  and  judgment,  that  quali- 
fied him  for  the  elevated  station  in  which  he  was 
now  placed;  with  some  considerable  knowledge  of 
mankind,  he  supported  the  reserve  of  the  statesman, 
with  the  occasional  affability  of  the  courtier.  In 
his  character  was  blended  a  certain  dignity,  united 
with  the  appearance  of  good  humour;  he  possessed 
courage  without  rashness,  patriotism  and  zeal  with- 

204 


THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  REVOLUTION 

out  acrimony,  and  retained  with  universal  applause 
the  first  military  command,  until  the  establishment 
of  independence.  Through  the  Ararious  changes  of 
fortune  in  the  subsequent  conflict,  though  the  slow- 
ness of  his  movements  was  censured  by  some,  his 
character  suffered  little  diminution  to  the  conclusion 
of  a  war,  that  from  the  extraordinary  exigencies  of 
an  infant  republic,  required  at  times  the  caution 
of  Fabius,  the  energies  of  Caesar,  and  the  happy 
facility  of  expedient  in  distress,  so  remarkable  in 
the  military  operations  of  the  illustrious  Frederick 
[of  Prussia].  With  the  first  of  these  qualities,  he 
was  endowed  by  nature;  the  second  was  awakened 
by  necessity;  and  the  third  he  acquired  by  experi- 
ence in  the  field  of  glory  and  danger,  which  extended 
his  fame  through  half  the  globe." 

It  is  only  when  she  approaches  Thomas 
Hutchinson,  the  object  of  what  seems  to  her  a 
just  detestation,  that  she  becomes  truly  piquant 
and  human ;  after  remarking  that  "  it  is  ever 
painful  to  a  candid  mind  to  exhibit  the 
deformed  features  of  its  own  species,"  she 
goes  on  to  characterize  him  as  "dark,  in- 
triguing, insinuating,  haughty  and  ambitious, 
wbile  the  extreme  of  avarice  marked  each 
feature  of  his  character.  His  abilities  were 
little  elevated  above  the  line  of  mediocrity; 
yet  by  dint  of  industry,  exact  temperance, 
and  indefatigable  labor,  he  became  master  of 


MERCY  WARREN 

the  accomplishments  necessary  to  acquire 
popular  fame.  .  .  .  He  had  acquired  some 
knowledge  of  the  common  law  of  England,  dili- 
gently studied  the  intricacies  of  Machiavelian 
policy,  and  never  failed  to  recommend  the 
Italian  master  as  a  model  to  his  adherents." 

This,  as  has  been  said,  is  one  of  the  judg- 
ments of  the  time  which  posterity  has  reversed. 
Mrs.  Warren  was  no  less  enlightened,  no  less 
keen  of  vision  than  her  associates;  but  they 
were  all  too  near  the  object  of  their  scrutiny, 
and  too  hot-headed  with  the  rage  born  of 
oppression  to  judge  justly.  Thomas  Hutch- 
inson  was  not  perhaps  a  martyr,  but  he  was  a 
most  intelligent  man,  who  tried  conscien- 
tiously to  perform  the  duties  of  an  impossible 
situation,  and  failed,  as  any  one  would  have 
failed  who  had  not  gone  over,  heart  and  soul, 
to  the  Colonists. 

Perhaps  the  worst  thing  that  can  be  said 
about  him  is  that  he  had  no  sense  of  humor. 
He  was  a  man  of  clear,  judicial  mind,  and  great 
moderation,  candor,  and  fairness,  which  be- 
came apparent  in  his  historical  work,  —  a  man 
with  a  sincere  love  of  his  native  country,  but 
one  who  held  what  then  seemed  a  gigantic  and 
monstrous  delusion:  that  America  should,  at 
any  cost,  form  an  obedient  part  of  the  regnant 
kingdom,  her  head.  Other  good  men  of  the 

206 


THE  HISTORY  OF  THE 


REVOLUTIC 


day  believed  the  same  heinous  article,  ar. 
not  hesitate  to  act  in  favor  of  it;  but  a. 
intensely  partisan  moment  they  were  proscri, 
and  without  honor. 

Her   cool   down-setting  of   Hancock  is   r. 
freshing,  as  applied  to  a  popular  idol:  — 

"Mr.  Hancock  was  a  young  gentleman  of  fortune, 
of  more  external  accomplishments  than  real  abili- 
ties. He  was  polite  in  manners,  easy  in  address, 
affable,  civil,  and  liberal.  With  these  accomplish- 
ments, he  was  capricious,  sanguine,  and  implaca- 
ble: naturally  generous,  he  was  profuse  in  expense ; 
he  scattered  largesses  without  discretion,  and  pur- 
chased favors  by  the  waste  of  wealth,  until  he 
reached  the  ultimatum  of  his  wishes,  which  centred 
in  the  focus  of  popular  applause.  He  enlisted  early 
in  the  cause  of  his  country,  at  the  instigation  of 
some  gentlemen  of  penetration,  who  thought  his 
ample  fortune  might  give  consideration,  while  his 
fickleness  could  not  injure,  so  long  as  he  was  under 
the  influence  of  men  of  superior  judgment.  They 
complimented  him  by  nominations  to  committees  of 
importance,  till  he  plunged  too  far  to  recede;  and 
flattered  by  ideas  of  his  own  consequence,  he  had 
taken  a  decided  part  before  the  battle  of  Lexington, 
and  was  president  of  the  provincial  congress,  when 
that  event  took  place." 

Hers  was  no  light  task,  —  to  face  her  own 
contemporaries  with  what  she  intended  for  ab- 

207 


MERCY  WARREN 

solutely  faithful  portraits,  drawn  without  fear 
or  favor.  There  can  be  no  doubt  that  she  wrote 
her  History  with  a  religious  fervor  consecrated 
to  the  cause  of  truth  and  justice.  When  she 
erred  it  was  through  the  natural  fallibility  of 
human  eyes  when  they  dare  to  scrutinize 
human  motives.  Perhaps  none  of  her  de- 
scriptions approach  so  near  the  standards  of 
truth  and  of  good  literature  combined  as  that 
of  Samuel  Adams :  — 

"Mr.  Adams  was  a  gentleman  of  good  education, 
a  decent  family,  but  no  fortune.  Early  nurtured 
in  the  principles  of  civil  and  religious  liberty,  he 
possessed  a  quick  understanding,  a  cool  head,  stern 
manners,  a  smooth  address,  and  a  Roman-like  firm- 
ness, united  with  that  sagacity  and  penetration  that 
would  have  made  a  figure  in  a  conclave.  He  was 
at  the  same  time  liberal  in  opinion,  and  uniformly 
devout;  social  with  men  of  all  denominations,  grave 
in  deportment;  placid,  yet  severe;  sober  and  inde- 
fatigable; calm  in  seasons  of  difficulty,  tranquil 
and  unruffled  in  the  vortex  of  political  altercation ; 
too  firm  to  be  intimidated,  too  haughty  for  conde- 
scension, his  mind  was  replete  with  resources 
tbat  dissipated  fear,  and  extricated  in  tbe  greatest 
emergencies." 

Throughout  her  History  Mrs.  Warren  never 
deviates  from  the  sternest  patriotism,  which 
displays  itself  nowhere  more  plainly  than  in 

208 


THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  REVOLUTION 

her  prevailing  distrust  of  the  Order  of  the  Cin- 
cinnati. She  traces  its  development,  owning, 
in  every  line,  her  timidity  over  the  tendency  of 
an  order  militating  against  republican  prin- 
ciples; and  she  says,  in  her  usually  emphatic 
style  (Mrs.  Warren  herself  would  have  called 
it  a  "nervous  "  style):  — • 

"As  the  officers  of  the  American  army  had 
styled  themselves  of  the  order,  and  assumed  the 
name  of  Cincinnatus,  it  might  have  been  expected 
that  they  would  have  imitated  the  humble  and  dis- 
interested virtues  of  the  ancient  Roman;  that  they 
would  have  retired  satisfied  with  their  own  efforts 
to  save  their  country,  and  the  competent  rewards 
it  was  ready  to  bestow,  instead  of  ostentatiously 
assuming  hereditary  distinctions,  and  the  insignia 
of  nobility.  But  the  eagle  and  the  ribbon  dangled 
at  the  button-hole  of  every  youth  who  had  for  three 
years  borne  an  office  in  the  army,  and  taught  him 
to  look  down  with  proud  contempt  on  the  patriot 
grown  grey  in  the  service  of  his  country." 

She  refrains,  with  scrupulous  veneration, 
from  censuring  Washington  for  becoming,  in 
1783,  the  President  of  the  Society,  but  she 
quotes  the  opinion  of  others  in  an  impartial 
fashion  which  leaves  us  in  no  doubt  of  the 
complexion  of  her  own:  — 

" It  was  observed,"  she  says,  "by  a  writer  in 
England,  that  < this  was  the  only  blot  hitherto  dis- 


MERCY  WARREN 

covered  in  the  character  of  this  venerable  hero.' 
The  same  writer  adds  —  *  It  is  impossible,  however, 
to  exculpate  him  :  if  he  understood  the  tendency  of 
his  conduct,  his  ideas  of  liberty  must  have  been  less 
pure  and  elevated  than  they  have  been  represented ; 
and  if  he  rushed  into  the  measure  blindfold,  he  must 
still  be  considered  as  wanting  in  some  degree,  that 
penetration  and  presence  of  mind  so  necessary  to 
complete  his  character.'  He  was  censured  by  sev- 
eral opposed  to  such  an  institution,  who  wrote  on  the 
subject  both  in  Europe  and  America :  it  was  con- 
sidered as  a  blameable  deviation  in  him  from  the 
principles  of  the  revolution  which  he  had  defended 
by  his  sword,  and  appeared  now  ready  to  relinquish 
by  his  example." 


210 


IX 

AN  HISTORIC  DIFFERENCE 

THE  History  of  the  Revolution  had  its  epi- 
logue :  a  controversy  which  Mrs.  Warren  had 
all  unwittingly  provoked,  and  which  was  of 
an  aspect  to  mar  the  satisfaction  of  any  author 
in  the  publication  of  his  dearest  book.  To 
her  it  must  have  proved  a  heavy  cross,  though, 
even  under  attack,  she  would  not  have  with- 
drawn a  syllable  from  what  she  had  written, 
no  matter  how  severely  it  might  be  questioned. 
She  was  a  just  woman,  and  she  had  said  her 
say  in  what  appeared  to  her  absolute  impar- 
tiality; but  she  was  also  a  woman  of  strong 
affections,  and  I  believe  she  would  gladly 
have  cast  the  whole  work  to  the  "  oozy 
nymphs,"  if  she  might  thus  have  spared 
offence  to  one  of  her  old  associates.  This 
controversy  over  her  book  does,  indeed,  con- 
stitute a  very  pretty  quarrel  as  it  stands,  pro- 
ceeding in  the  classical  fashion,  from  the 
"  retort  courteous  "  to  the  "  countercheck  quar- 
relsome," and  touching  delicately  on  the  "lie 
211 


MERCY  WARREN 

direct; "  after  which  the  disputants  "measured 
swords  and  parted." 

The  History  had  been  safely  launched  upon 
the  world  when,  on  the  eleventh  of  July,  1807, 
John  Adams,  then  a  man  of  seventy-two  years, 
in  residence  at  Quincy,  addressed  a  letter  to 
Mrs.  Warren,  saying  that  he  was  not  about 
to  write  a  review  of  her  work,  but  that  he 
wished  to  point  out  certain  inaccuracies  relat- 
ing to  himself,  that  she  might  judge  whether 
it  would  be  expedient  to  correct  them  for  a 
future  edition.  In  this  honestly  meant  but 
rather  ill-calculated  first  letter,  he  brings  her 
to  book  for  saying  that  "his  passions  and 
prejudices  were  sometimes  too  strong  for  his 
sagacity  and  judgment,"  for  underrating  the 
value  of  his  commission  for  negotiating  with 
Great  Britain  a  treaty  of  commerce,  and  for 
the  assertion  that  "unfortunately  for  himself 
and  his  country,  he  became  so  enamoured  with 
the  British  constitution  and  the  government, 
manners,  and  laws  of  the  nation,  that  a  par- 
tiality for  monarchy  appeared,  which  was 
inconsistent  with  his  former  professions  of 
republicanism." 

The  letter  is  warmly  written,  though  with 

careful  restraint,  and  it  must  be  owned  that, 

in  her  reply,  Mrs.  Warren  strikes  at  once  the 

wrong  note.     She  steps  out  of  the  common- 

212 


AN  HISTORIC  DIFFERENCE 

wealth  of  letters,  where  the  passionate  artist 
welcomes  censure  in  order  to  approach  per- 
fection. She  throws  their  difference  at  once 
upon  the  ground  of  personal  animosity.  It 
is,  at  least,  an  unfortunate  statement  made  in 
her  opening  paragraph :  — 

"Had  not  the  irritation  of  the  times  or  some 
other  cause  unknown  to  me  have  agitated  his  mind 
too  much  for  the  gentleman  or  the  friend,  I  should 
not  have  received  a  letter  couched  in  such  terms  as 
his  of  the  llth  of  July." 

So  the  correspondence  continues,  Mr.  Adams 
growing  warmer  and  more  unguarded  in  his 
language,  and  Mrs.  Warren  keeping  too 
rigidly  the  position  of  feminine  invulnerabil- 
ity. From  the  first  she  is  intrenched  in  the 
woman's  stronghold  of  noli  me  tangere.  She 
forgets  that  in  art  as  in  argument,  the  most 
unwelcome  assertion  becomes  worthy  of  re- 
spect, if  honestly  meant.  It  is  quite  evident 
that,  until  he  throws  discretion  to  the  winds, 
and  gives  rein  to  that  blazing  temper  of  his, 
Mr.  Adams  has  the  best  of  it,  regarding  it  as 
a  fair  up-and-down  controversy  "  with  no 
favor;"  for  he  shells  her  camp  with  docu- 
mentary proof,  and  justly  charges  her  with 
those  slight  inaccuracies  which  are  too  preva- 
lent in  her  work. 

213 


MERCY   WARREN 

Mrs.  Warren  wields  with  undeniable  effect 
the  weapon  of  revolt  under  personal  indignity. 
She  inquires  midway  in  the  game  why  she  has 
been  so  "indecently  attacked."  She  has  no 
hesitation  in  characterizing  his  mode  of 
address  as  " angry  and  virulent."  She  touches 
upon  one  contingency  in  a  manner  which 
becomes  exceedingly  interesting  in  view  of 
the  careful  preservation  of  their  letters  and 
the  share  which  the  world  has  already  taken 
in  them.  She  tells  him  that  his  former  letters 
are  not  lost. 

"Nor,"  she  adds,  "do  I  intend  your  more 
recent  ones  shall  ever  be  lost.  They  shall  be 
safely  deposited  for  future  use,  if  occasion 
shall  require  it." 

It  was  a  prophetic  suggestion  which  has 
been  amply  fulfilled.  Posterity  has  been 
admitted  to  the  inner  courts  of  that  old 
friendship,  read  its  inscriptions,  and  gone 
away  inspired  with  no  less  love  and  reverence 
for  the  two  fiery  patriots.  The  letters  have 
been  published  by  the  Massachusetts  Histori- 
cal Society,  not  to  embalm  an  ancient  differ- 
ence, but  because  they  contain  so  much  matter 
of  vital  interest  relating  to  the  Revolutionary 
period. 

It  is  only  fair  to  own  that  Mrs.  Warren 
does,  at  more  than  one  point,  assume  an 

214 


AN  HISTORIC  DIFFERENCE 

ungenerous  attitude.  Her  antagonist  indulges 
in  page  after  page  of  passionate  recapitulation 
tending  to  disprove  her  assertion  that  he 
appeared  at  one  time  to  "have  relinquished 
the  republican  system."  Thereupon  she  puts 
him  calmly  aside  with  the  dictum  that  she 
can  "see  no  pleasure  or  benefit  in  dwelling 
on  such  a  theme,  or  following  a  thread  spun 
out  to  such  a  length. "  Surely,  if  it  were  her 
metier  to  draw  and  publish  historical  conclu- 
sions, it  was  also  a  necessity  to  establish 
them,  when  challenged  by  an  old  friend  whom 
she  had,  whether  justly  or  unjustly,  wounded 
to  the  quick.  One  phrase  especially  sticks  in 
the  great  patriot's  throat.  She  has  accused 
him  of  "pride  of  talent,"  and  that  "is  a 
notion  "  he  "  cannot  endure. "  He  refers  to  it 
again  and  again,  with  increasing  bitterness, 
and  it  suddenly  crops  out  in  his  reproach  that 
she  should  have  recognized  the  appointment  of 
Jay  to  Madrid,  and  ignored  his  own  (two  days 
later);  whereupon  he  concludes  with  the  bit- 
ing remark :  — 

"I  am  not  able  to  account,  Madam,  for  your 

knowledge  of  one  event  or  your  ignorance  of  the 

x- other.     If  it  was  not  ( pride, '  it  was  presumption 

\    'of  talent,'  in  a  lady  to  write  a  history  with   so 

J  imperfect  information  or  so  little  impartiality." 


MERCY  WARREN 

This  inevitably  rouses  a  counter-irritation, 
from  which  Mrs.  Warren  replies  that  after 
one  of  his  strictures  on  the  knowledge  of  the 
"  celebrated  Mrs.  Macaulay, "  she  cannot  won- 
der at  his  calling  it  "  presumption  in  a  lady 
to  write  a  History  with  so  little  information 
as  Mrs.  Warren  has  acquired.  Perhaps  that 
presumption  might  have  been  excited  by  your- 
self, when,  with  the  warmest  expression  of 
friendship,  you  acknowledged  you  had  received 
a  letter  from  an  incomparable  satirist,  and 
requested  your  most  profound  respects  might 
be  presented  to  her,  desiring  her  husband  at 
the  same  time  to  tell  her  that  '  God  Almighty 
(I  use  a  bold  style)  has  intrusted  her  with 
powers  for  the  good  of  the  world,  which  in  the 
course  of  His  providence  he  bestows  upon 
very  few  of  the  human  race ;  that,  instead  of 
being  a  fault  to  use  them,  it  would  be  criminal 
to  neglect  them. '  " 

There  she  had  the  best  of  it.  His  flattery 
of  her,  as  we  have  seen,  had  always  been 
egregious.  If  she  had  not  been  a  woman  of 
splendid  mental  balance  and  great  modesty, 
it  could  scarcely  have  been  John  Adams's 
fault  if  she  had  believed  herself  intellectually 
but  little  lower  than  the  angels.  Nevertheless, 
it  cannot  be  denied  that  in  confronting  him 
with  his  former  attitude,  she  proves  herself 


AN  HISTORIC  DIFFERENCE 

no  fair  antagonist.  She  commits  the  woman's 
error  of  recurrence  to  the  past,  wilfully  goad- 
ing a  man  to  madness  by  reminding  him, 
"  Thus  you  used  to  do ;  this  you  used  to  say. " 
Moreover,  she  resorts  to  a  feint  not  altogether 
admirable  by  which  his  arguments  are  actually 
subverted  to  his  own  undoing.  No  better 
instance  of  such  apparent  logic  and  false 
reasoning  exists  than  in  certain  cool  perver- 
sions, whereby  she  makes  him  absurd  through 
the  counter-assertion  to  the  remarks  which 
have  awakened  his  ire.  She  says :  — 

"On  what  point  of  ridicule  would  Mrs.  Warren's 
character  stand,  were  she  to  write  her  History  over 
again,  and  correct  her  errors,  as  you  seem  to  wish 
her  to  do,  by  contradicting  her  former  assertions. 
She  must  tell  the  world  that  Mr.  Adams  was  no 
monarchist;  that  he  had  no  partiality  for  the 
habits,  manners,  or  government  of  England;  that 
he  was  a  man  of  fashion,  that  his  polite  accomplish- 
ments rendered  him  completely  qualified  for  the 
refinements  of  Parisian  taste :  that  he  had  neither 
frigidity  nor  warmth  of  temper,  that  his  passions 
were  always  on  a  due  equipoise;  that  he  was  be- 
loved by  every  man,  woman,  and  child  in  France; 
that  he  had  neither  ambition  nor  pride  of  talents, 
and  that  he  '  had  no  talents  to  be  proud  of : '  that 
he  was  never  hated  by  courtiers  and  partisans,  nor 
thwarted  by  the  Count  de  Yergennes,  but  that  this 
minister  and  himself  were  always  on  the  most 
217 


MERCY   WARREN 

cordial  terms;  that  he  was  a  favorite  of  the  admin- 
istrators of  the  affairs  of  France;  that  they  loved 
him  for  his  yielding,  compliant  temper  and  man- 
ners; that  he  was  always  a  republican,  though  he 
has  asserted  there  was  no  possibility  of  understand- 
ing or  defining  the  term  republicanism;  that  in 
France  he  was  always  happy;  that  in  England  he 
suppressed  the  American  insurrections  by  the  de- 
fence of  their  Constitutions;  that  his  writings 
suppressed  rebellion,  quelled  the  insurgents,  estab- 
lished the  State  and  Federal  Constitutions,  and 
gave  the  United  States  all  the  liberty,  republican- 
ism and  independence  they  enjoy;  that  his  name 
was  always  placed  at  the  head  of  every  public  com- 
mission; that  nothing  had  been  done,  that  nothing 
could  be  done,  neither  in  Europe  nor  America, 
without  his  sketching  and  drafting  the  business, 
from  the  first  opposition  to  British  measures  in  the 
year  1764  to  signing  the  treaty  of  peace  with  Eng- 
land in  the  year  1783." 

It  is  easy  enough  to  reduce  an  antagonist  to 
pulp  in  this  fashion,  if  you  are  moderately 
clever,  and  willing  to  adopt  a  woman's  license 
of  speech ;  but  "  ce  n'est  pas  la  guerre. " 

In  historical  narrative,  ill-judged  suppres- 
sions or  wrongly  balanced  statements  of  fact 
are  surely  as  damaging  to  that  approximate 
truth  for  which  the  historian  should  pray,  as 
inaccuracy  in  regard  to  fact  itself.  To  write 
history  is  to  challenge  contradiction ;  and  no 

218 


AN  HISTORIC  DIFFERENCE 

one,  not  even  an  aged  and  honored  lady,  can 
justly,  in  that  situation,  adopt  the  habit  of 
"uniform  silence  relative  to  any  criticisms 
that  might  appear  from  public  scribblers,  or 
the  disquisitions  and  interrogatories  of  others 
in  a  more  private  character." 

But  the  cause  of  this  lamentable  lapse  of 
friendship  was  less  personal  than  public.  It 
must  be  referred  to  the  events  of  the  time  and 
their  influence  on  opposing  forces.  Mr.  Adams 
and  his  old  friend  were  unfortunately  placed 
.  /Tn  relation  to  each  other.  He  was  a  Federal- 
/  ist,  upholding  a  centralized  form  of  govern- 
/  ment.  Mrs.  Warren  adhered  to  what  she 
considered  an  ideal  and  abstract  republican- 
ism. It  was,  as  we  have  seen,  a  constant  fear 
of  hers  that  the  republican  standard  should 
become  tarnished,  and  that  the  decay  of  this 
young  democracy  should  be  brought  about 
through  luxury  and  lust  for  wealth  and  titles. 
She  was  not  alone  in  including  John  Adams 
among  those  who  might  minister  to  such  a  fear. 
He  had  retired  to  private  life  under  the  burden 
of  great  unpopularity.  He  was  the  "  colossus 
of  Independence ; "  yet  by  the  spirit  of  the 
times,  the  apprehensions  of  the  times,  he  had 
been  placed  in  a  position  which  must  have 
proved  inexpressibly  galling  to  a  man  con- 
scious of  rectitude  of  intention.  He  had  been 

219 


MERCY  WARREN 

attacked  from  without  until  he  was  raw  and 
bleeding;  and  it  must  have  seemed  to  him, 
when  it  came  to  Mrs.  Warren,  that  he  had 
been  wounded  in  the  house  of  his  friends.  A 
man  of  great  directness,  of  rash,  confiding, 
and  sometimes  ironical  habit  of  speech,  he 
was  more  than  justified  in  feeling  that  when 
she  gave  weight  to  popular  calumnies  by  re- 
peating them,  supplemented  by  the  conclusions 
drawn  from  her  intimate  acquaintance  with 
him,  the  attack  was  not  to  be  borne.  It 
was  true,  he  had  talked  of  monarchy ;  but  so 
had  other  men.  In  October,  1775,  he  had 
written :  — 

"  What  think  you  of  a  North  American  Mon- 
archy? Suppose  we  should  appoint  a  Continental 
King  and  a  Continental  House  of  Lords,  and  a 
Continental  House  of  Commons,  to  be  annually,  or 
triennially  or  septennially  elected?  And  in  this 
Way  make  a  Supreme  American  Legislature?" 

One  bit  of  her  evidence  against  him  is  not 
only  pertinent  in  showing  the  character  of  his 
mind,  but  it  paints  in  vivid  colors  the  dash 
and  frankness  of  conversation  both  at  Plymouth 
and  Braintree.  She  writes :  — 

"Do  you  not  recollect  that,  a  very  short  time 
after  this,  [1788]  Mr.  Warren  and  myself  made 
you  a  visit  at  Braintree?  The  previous  conversa- 


AN  HISTORIC  DIFFERENCE 

tion,  in  the  evening,  I.  do  not  so  distinctly  re- 
member; but  in  the  morning,  at  breakfast  at  your 
own  table,  the  conversation  on  the  subject  of  mon- 
archy was  resumed.  Your  ideas  appeared  to  be 
favorable  to  monarchy,  and  to  an  order  of  nobility 
in  your  own  country.  Mr.  Warren  replied,  '  I  am 
thankful  that  I  am  a  plebeian.'  You  answered: 
( No,  sir :  you  are  of  the  nobles.  There  has  been 
a  national  aristocracy  here  ever  since  the  country 
was  settled,  — your  family  at  Plymouth,  Mrs. 
Warren's  at  Barnstable,  and  many  others  in  very 
many  places  that  have  kept  up  a  distinction  simi- 
lar to  nobility.'  The  conversation  subsided  by  a 
little  mirth. 

"Do  you  not  remember  that,  after  breakfast,  you 
and  Mr.  Warren  stood  up  by  the  window,  and  con- 
versed on  the  situation  of  the  country,  on  the 
Southern  States,  and  some  principal  characters 
there?  You,  with  a  degree  of  passion,  exclaimed, 
'  They  must  have  a  master; '  and  added,  by  a  stamp 
with  your  foot,  '  By  God,  they  shall  have  a  master.' 
In  the  course  of  the  same  evening,  you  observed 
that  you  l  wished  to  see  a  monarchy  in  this  country, 
and  an  hereditary  one  too.'  To  this  you  say  I 
replied  as  quick  as  lightning,  'And  so  do  I  too.' 
If  I  did,  which  I  do  not  remember,  it  must  have 
been  with  some  additional  stroke  which  rendered  it 
a  sarcasm." 

Perhaps  his  remark,  too,  was  intended  to 
be  taken  with  a  grain  of  salt. 


M&RCY  WARREN 

There  was  a  great  deal  of  more  or  less 
serious  talk  about  monarchy  at  that  formative 
period ;  but  a  man  was  not  necessarily  less 
of  a  patriot  for  dabbling  in  it.  Conscious  of 
his  general  intent,  of  his  great  services  to  his 
country,  the  specks  upon  Adams's  armor  were 
so  small  that  he  must  have  felt  like  saying  to 
his  friends :  "  You  at  least  should  not  have 
pointed  them  out. "  Like  every  one  of  us,  he 
wanted  to  be  judged  au  large, —  by  intention 
rather  than  according  to  the  flawed  and  faulty 
act. 

To  Mrs.  Warren  the  entire  affair  must  have 
been  not  only  painful  but  distinctly  bewilder- 
ing; for  had  not  John  Adams  himself  written 
her,  in  1775,  "The  faithful  historian  deline- 
ates characters  truly,  let  the  censure  fall 
where  it  is  "  ?  She  had  honestly  obeyed  him. 
She  had  used  the  lash,  and  he  had  not  only 
winced  but  retaliated.  Let  it  be  again  remem- 
bered that  these  conclusions  of  hers  were  not 
hers  alone.  They  were  duplicated  in  popular 
feeling.  Even  certain  unnecessary  personal 
strictures  were  matters  of  common  belief. 
She  had  naively  and  honestly  set  down  that 
"his  genius  was  not  altogether  calculated  for 
a  court  life  amidst  the  conviviality  and  gayety 
of  Parisian  taste. "  She  had  pictured  him  as 
"ridiculed  by  the  fashionable  and  polite  as 
222 


AN  HISTORIC  DIFFERENCE 

deficient  in  the  je  ne  sais  quoi  so  necessary 
in  polished  society,"  to  which  he  bitterly 
responds:  "Franklin,  Jay,  Laurens,  Jefferson, 
Munroe,  Livingston,  Morris,  and  Armstrong, 
I  suppose,  were  not  deficient  in  this  je  ne  sais 
quoi. " 

Although  Mrs.  Warren  was  a  woman  of 
"sensibility,"  I  cannot  help  thinking  that  a 
sense  of  humor  would  have  enabled  her  to 
guess  that  a  spade  must  be  dignified  by  some 
euphemism  when  it  comes  to  personal  habits 
and  manners;  yet  she  was  not  alone  in  that 
criticism,  and  probably  she  was  quite  right. 
John  Adams  was  a  plain  man  and  no  courtier ; 
and  no  shame  to  him  for  that.  In  1787, 
Jonathan  Sewall  wrote  to  a  friend  in  regard 
to  Adams :  — 

"  He  is  not  qualified,  by  nature  or  education,  to 
shine  in  courts.  His  abilities  are,  undoubtedly, 
quite  equal  to  the  mechanical  parts  of  his  business 
as  ambassador;  but  this  is  not  enough.  He  cannot 
dance,  drink,  game,  flatter,  promise,  dress,  swear 
with  the  gentlemen,  and  talk  small  talk  and  flirt 
with  the  ladies ;  in  short,  he  has  none  of  the  essen- 
tial arts  or  ornaments  which  constitute  a  courtier. 
There  are  thousands,  who,  with  a  tenth  part  of  his 
understanding  and  without  a  spark  of  his  honesty, 
would  distance  him  infinitely  in  any  court  in 
Europe.  I  will  only  add  that  I  found  many  Ameri- 


MERCY  WARREN 

cans  in  London,  whose  sentiments  and  conduct 
towards  him  were  by  no  means  so  liberal  or  polite 
as  I  could  have  wished." 

But  there  is  a  curious  later  evidence  con- 
nected with  this  controversy,  which,  though 
slight,  is  of  no  small  interest;  and  I  am  per- 
suaded that  if  John  Adams  had  had  recourse 
to  the  existing  manuscript  of  the  History  of 
the  Revolution,  he  would  have  been  a  little 
mollified  in  finding  how  hard  it  had  been 
for  his  old  friend  to  decide  upon  a  just  por- 
traiture of  his  inner  self,  and  how  consci- 
entiously she  had  tried  to  shade  the  picture 
in  conformity  with  her  severe  ideals  of  accu- 
racy and  truth.  There  are  erasures  where 
she  failed.  There  are  softening  phrases 
which  were  afterwards  omitted,  in  condensing 
for  the  press,  and  which  would  have  done 
much  to  qualify  resentment.  For  more  than 
one  opinion  in  this  less  labored  draft  repre- 
sents the  popular  judgment.  When  it  has 
reached  print,  it  stands  out  incisively  as  her 
own  uncompromising  conclusion.  Those  quali- 
fying phrases  are  small;  yet,  in  the  face  of 
what  accompanied  their  omission,  they  are 
not  insignificant. 

From  her  historical  page  you  read  that  "  it 
was  viewed  as  a  kind  of  political  phenome- 


AN  HISTORIC  DIFFERENCE 

non  when  discovered  that  Mr.  Adams's  former 
opinions  were  beclouded  by  a  partiality  for 
monarchy."  The  manuscript  says:  "It  was 
thought  by  many  that  his  own  political  sys- 
tems were  beclouded  by  his  partiality  for 
monarchy. " 

jt-  Turn  again  to  the  printed  page  and  find: 
"Pride  of  talents  and  much  ambition  were 
undoubtedly  combined  in  the  character  of  the 
president  who  immediately  succeeded  General 
Washington."  The  same  paragraph  in  the 
manuscript  begins  with  "Great  virtues  and 
strong  passions, "  and  though  it  goes  on  to  the 
"pride  of  talents"  which  Mr.  Adams  found  it 
so  difficult  to  forgive,  and  to  his  "unbounded 
ambition,"  the  more  fortunate  prelude  might 
have  softened  him  to  bear  the  rest. 

"  It  is  to  be  charitably  presumed, "  says  the 
printed  volume,  "that  the  splendor  of  courts 
and  courtiers  may  have  biassed  Mr.  Adams's 
judgment  into  thinking  an  hereditary  mon- 
archy the  best  government  for  America." 
But  the  manuscript  is  neither  so  patronizing 
nor  so  dogmatic.  Even  from  the  fact  of  its 
greater  length,  it  makes  the  allegation  less  a 
matter  of  fact  than  opinion.  It  seems  there 
as  if  she  would  "  use  all  gently  " :  — 

"From  Mr.  Adams's  religious  professions  and 
his  general  regard  to  moral  obligation,  it  is  candid 

15  225 


MERCY  WARREN 

to  suppose  that  he  might,  by  living  long  near  the 
splendor  of  courts  and  courtiers,  united  with  his 
own  brightened  prospects,  have  become  so  biassed  in 
his  judgment  as  to  think  an  hereditary  monarchy 
the  best  Government  for  his  native  country." 

The  quarrel  swept  on  until  John  Adams 
had  said  that  which  he  should  not,  and  Mrs. 
Warren  had  retorted  with  what  was  at  last  a 
properspirit.  It  is  good  to  see,  however,  that 
Tier  last  word  holds  a  suggestion  of  softness 
and  regret:  — 

As  an  old  friend,  I  pity  you;  as  a  Christian,  I 
forgive  you;  but  there  must  be  some  acknowledg- 
ment of  your  injurious  treatment  or  some  advances 
to  conciliation,  to  which  my  mind  is  ever  open, 
before  I  can  again  feel  that  respect  and  affection 
towards  Mr.  Adams  which  once  existed  in  the 
bosom  of 

MERCY  WARREN. 

The  controversy  dropped,  and  for  a  time  it 
seemed  as  if  the  old  friendship  were  dead ; 
but,  like  all  precious  things,  it  had  in  it  the 
seeds  of  resurrection.  The  common  friends 
of  the  two  families  would  not  allow  it  to 
cease;  and  through  the  mediation  of  Elbridge 
Gerry,  then  Governor  of  Massachusetts,  in 
whom  Mrs.  Warren  had  confided,  a  reconcil- 
iation was  firmly  established.  He  seems  to 


AN  HISTORIC  DIFFERENCE 

have  entered  upon  his  hard  task  with  great 
tact  and  impartiality ;  and  a  paragraph  from 
his  opening  letter  shows  how  sincerely  he 
tried  to  look  on  both  sides  of  the  shield :  — 

"  The  object  of  Mr.  Adams,  as  expressed  in  the 
first  page  of  his  letter  of  July  llth,  was  certainly, 
under  the  sense  of  injury  which  he  afterwards 
expressed,  consistent  with  the  character  of  a  gen- 
tleman of  sense,  honor,  and  reputation,  and,  had 
it  been  carefully  pursued,  would  probably  have 
committed  to  oblivion  the  letters  themselves,  and 
have  terminated  to  the  mutual  satisfaction  of  the 
parties ;  but  if  he  did  not  '  conceive  resentment ' 
and  was  not  'hastily  changed  into  an  enemy,'  he 
approached  so  near  to  these  points  as  that  his  best 
friends  must  allow  he  appeared  to  be  in  contact 
with  them." 

A  frankly  humorous  and  human  incident 
also  belongs  to  the  little  drama.  A  letter 
to  Mrs.  Warren  from  Dr.  James  Freeman, 
dated  April  14,  1810,  indicates  that  she  had 
confided  the  matter  to  him  under  injunction 
of  secrecy;  and  he  replies  in  well-guarded 
and  politic  fashion,  saying  that  he  wishes  "  to 
write  in  such  a  manner,  as  to  express  that 
warm  approbation  "  which  he  feels  for  her, 
without  unduly  censuring  Mr.  Adams.  But 
he  owns  that  he  does  not  like,  in  writing,  to 
say  anything  about  a  brother  man  which  is 

227 


MERCY  WARREN 

not  at  once  prudent  and  kindly.  (Evidently 
he  adheres  to  the  golden  rule  laid  down  by 
Rhoda  Broughton's  born  flirt  and  jilt:  "Never 
write !  In  the  length  and  breadth  of  Europe, " 
says  Miss  Churchill  with  a  modest  pride, 
"  there  is  riot  a  square  inch  of  my  handwriting 
to  be  obtained ! ")  When  he  goes  to  Plymouth 
he  will  talk  it  over.  But  he  had  previously 
written  the  most  delightfully  personal  letter 
to  James  Warren,  Jr.  :  — 

BOSTON,  6th  May,  1808. 

DEAR  SIR,  —  Your  favour  of  the  20th  of  April, 
owing  I  suppose  to  the  new  arrangements  of  the 
post-office  here,  I  have  just  received.  It  reminds 
me  of  my  neglect  in  not  answering  the  very  accept- 
able letter,  which  enclosed  the  Alphabetical  Max- 
ims. For  this  and  all  other  favours  I  sincerely 
thank  you  &  Mrs.  Warren. 

I  am  not  unmindful  of  her  injunction  as  to  a 
certain  gentleman.  Soon  after  my  return  from 
Plymouth,  I  was  closely  questioned  by  his  nephew, 
whether  his  letters  to  your  mother  had  been  com- 
municated to  me.  I  inquired,  "what  letters?" 
and  was  informed,  "That  they  were  very  smart 
&  very  severe."  At  that  time  I  gave  him  no 
direct  answer:  but  a  few  days  after  I  took  an 
opportunity  of  saying  to  him,  that  I  thought  him 
a  strange  man;  that  he  had  asked  me  a  question, 
which  I  could  not  with  propriety  answer  in  any 


AN  HISTORIC  DIFFERENCE 

way;  that  whether  ignorant  or  acquainted  with 
the  subject,  I  ought  not  to  be  pressed  on  it ;  that 
whenever  a  gentleman  was  admitted  into  the  bosoin 
of  a  private  family,  he  had  no  right  to  betray  its 
secrets,  or  even  to  intimate  that  he  had  heard  any- 
thing of  a  secret  nature.  How  ought  I  then  to 
address  a  man,  who  asks  me  such  questions?  He 
answered,  in  a  good  natured  manner  —  for  he  is  a 
pleasant  young  man  —  "  Tell  him,  that  it  is  none 
of  his  business."  I  replied,  "I  do  say  to  you  then, 
Mr.  S,  that  it  is  none  of  your  business."  After  this, 
I  conclude,  I  shall  hear  no  more  of  the  matter  from 
that  quarter.  Whenever  therefore  I  go  again  to 
Plymouth,  I  think  I  may  be  safely  indulged  with 
the  perusal  of  the  letters.  I  have  a  great  curiosity 
to  read  them;  and  I  did  violence  to  my  inclina- 
tions, when,  influenced  by  the  motive  of  prudence, 
I  forbore  to  urge  your  Mother  to  communicate  their 
contents. 

From  the  moment  of  reconciliation  the 
friendship  ran  in  an  unbroken  course,  only 
to  be  interrupted  by  death.  Its  renewal  was 
followed  by  an  interchange  of  gifts,  still  exist- 
ing when  the  hearts  whose  affection  they  sym- 
bolized have  fallen  into  dust.  Their  story  is 
told  in  a  letter  written  at  Quincy,  December 
30,  1812,  by  Mrs.  Adams  to  Mrs.  Warren :  — 

"With  this  letter,  I  forward  to  you  a  token  of 
love  and  friendship.  I  hope  it  will  not  be  the  less 

229 


MERCY  WARREN 

valuable  to  you  for  combining,  with  a  lock  of 
my  own  hair,  that  of  your  ancient  friend's  at  his 
request.  The  lock  of  hair  with  which  you  favored 
me  from  a  head  which  I  shall  ever  respect,  I  have 
placed  in  a  handkerchief  pin,  set  with  pearl,  in 
the  same  manner  with  the  ring.  I  shall  hold  it 
precious." 

Ring  and  pin  are  now  in  the  possession  of 
Winslow  Warren,  Esq.,  of  Dedham.  The  pin 
is  an  oblong  surrounded  by  small  pearls,  with 
Mrs.  Warren's  initials  in  the  centre.  The 
ring,  a  square  top  set  with  pearls  in  the  same 
manner,  has  suffered  from  the  lapse  of  time ; 
for  most  of  the  hair  has  disappeared,  and  the 
letters  "  J.  &  A.  A.,"  which  were  originally 
in  gold,  have  turned  black. 

And  Mrs.  Warren's  reply,  dated  January 
26,  1813,  begins  with  warmth :  — 

"  A  token  of  love  and  friendship.  What  can 
be  more  acceptable  to  a  mind  of  susceptibility? 

"...  I  shall  with  pleasure  wear  the  ring  as  a 
Valuable  expression  of  your  regard;  nor  will  it  be 
the  less  valued  for  combining  with  yours  a  lock  of 
hair  from  the  venerable  and  patriotic  head  of  the 
late  President  of  the  United  States.  This,  being 
at  his  own  request,  enhances  its  worth  in  my  esti- 
mation. It  is  an  assurance  that  he  can  never  for- 
get former  amities.  For  this  I  thank  him.  When 
I  view  this  testimonial  of  their  regard,  I  shall  be 
daily  reminded  from  whose  head  the  locks  were 


AN  HISTORIC  DIFFERENCE 

shorn ;  friends  who  have  been  entwined  to  my  heart 
by  years  of  endearment,  which,  if  in  any  degree 
interrupted  by  incalculable  circumstances,  the  age 
of  us  all  now  reminds  us  we  have  more  to  think  of 
than  the  partial  interruption  of  sublunary  friend- 
ships." 

Was  it  well  that  this  ancient  feud  should 
have  been  brought  to  light  by  publication  ?  It 
seems  to  me  eminently  well,  not  only  that  the 
treasury  of  historical  fact  might  be  somewhat 
enriched,  but  because  it  lends  us  a  more  inti- 
mate personal  acquaintance  with  the  two  con- 
testants ;  for  therein  do  we  find  them  not  the 
more  perfect,  but  the  more  human.  1  am 
rather  glad  that  two  aged  patriots  could  so 
completely  lose  their  tempers  on  the  brink  of 
the  grave.  They  had  still  the  warmth  of  good 
red  blood.  On  both  sides  the  excuse  was  ample. 
John  Adams's  apologia  lies  in  the  bitter  cir- 
cumstances of  his  later  life.  Mrs.  Warren's 
plea  was  of  a  different  nature.  Well  fitted, 
from  her  personal  contact  with  events,  for  vivid 
historical  writing,  she  was  not,  either  from 
the  habit  of  a  lifetime  or  the  expectation  of 
that  deference  due  her  great  age,  calculated  to 
endure  attack.  It  was  a  pity  that  she  had  not 
found  herself  moved  to  write  personal  remi- 
niscence rather  than  reflections  which  must 
be  more  or  less  autocratic;  but  the  bent  of 

231 


MERCY  WARREN 

her  mind  was  ever  toward  abstract  virtue  and 
vice,  and  on  that  road  she  wore  no  bridle. 
The  scathing  nature  of  her  satire  (which, 
remember,  had  always  been  received  with 
applause !)  had  educated  her  into  a  freedom  of 
speech  which  was  somewhat  too  like  Lesbia's 
"  wit  refined  " :  — 

"...  when  its  points  are  gleaming  round  us, 
Who  can  tell  if  they  're  designed 
To  dazzle  merely,  or  to  wound  us  ?  " 

And  the  time  was  yet  young  for  balancing 
events  which  were  too  new  in  the  memory  for 
an  unerring  testimony.  Neither  Mr.  Adams 
nor  Mrs.  Warren  could  stand  off  and  view, 
with  absolute  wisdom  in  relation  to  results, 
circumstances  of  which  they  had  been  a  living 
part 


232 


THOUGHT  AND  OPINION 

HAD  Mrs.  Warren  herself,  according  to  that 
lifelong  habit  of  kers,  set  out  to  draw  Mrs. 
Warren's  character,  what  would  she  have  writ- 
ten ?  Possibly  something  after  this  sort :  — 

"Affable  without  familiarity,  gracious  to 
her  equals,  and  condescending  to  those  whom 
the  social  order  denominated  her  inferiors; 
of  an  heroic  temper,  which  was  nevertheless 
sometimes  shaken  by  the  adverse  currents  of 
a  nervous  organism ;  deeply  affectionate,  and 
yet,  save  in  rare  cases,  studiously  reserved. 
Her  intellectual  habit  was  distinguished  by 
an  extraordinary  acumen  in  the  judgment  of 
character  and  an  ability  to  portray  it.  She 
was  possessed  of  vivacity  of  speech,  and  un- 
varying address  in  action,"  —  but  labored  an- 
tithesis is  not  to  be  attained  by  the  modern 
pen.  What  did  Mrs.  Warren  betray  herself 
to  be  after  her  character  had  crystallized  into 
shape  ?  Her  literary  likings  are  not  far  to 

233 


MERCY  WARREN 

seek.  They  conform  to  the  highest  and  most 
rigid  ideals  of  her  time.  She  subscribed 
without  qualification  to  the  classic  formula  of 
"days  and  nights  to  the  study  of  Addison. " 
Pope  and  Dryden,  with  their  measured  morali- 
ties and  even-paced  rhythm,  seemed  to  her  the 
refinement  of  poetic  ability  and  good  taste. 
But  through  all  her  intellectual  pursuits,  her 
character  marches  like  a  soldier,  ready  to 
give  blow  on  blow.  No  mere  cleverness, 
even  on  her  darling  grountl  of  historical  writ- 
ing, can  blind  her  to  a  shallow  estimate  of 
things  sacred.  Her  moral  judgment  is  never 
hoodwinked  by  mere  intellectual  ability.  She 
reads  Abb6  Raynal's  Philosophical  and  Politi- 
cal History  of  the  East  and  West  Indies  with 
a  peculiar  interest  and  approval ;  for  were  not 
his  democratic  principles  exactly  after  her 
own  heart  ?  She  reads  Gibbon  and  Hume, 
but  with  more  than  a  grain  of  protest.  To 
her  mind,  their  general  conclusions  were  in- 
validated by  their  sceptical  tenor  of  thought. 
No  one,  she  would  say,  who  fails  to  include 
the  Great  Author  of  the  universe  in  his 
earthly  scheme  can  justly  weigh  and  measure 
events.  But  especially  does  the  furore  over 
Lord  Chesterfield  awaken  her  to  a  righteous 
and  outspoken  indignation.  Briefly  she  would 
have  agreed  with  the  ruthless  dictum  that  the 

234 


THOUGHT  AND  OPINION 

Letters  teach  "  the  morals  of  a  prostitute  and 
the  manners  of  a  dancing  master."  She  has 
observed  that  infidelity  is  gaining  ground  in 
America,  and  in  1799,  she  writes:  — 

"For  more  than  thirty  years  there  has  been 
reason  to  dread  the  influence  of  the  opinions  of 
Voltaire,  de  Alemhert  &c  on  the  rising  generation, 
and  in  more  modern  times  I  have  held  in  equal 
contempt  those  of  Hume  Gibbon  and  Godwin, 
but  as  we  hear  the  sacred  volume  is  again  coming 
into  fashion  through  mere  detestation  of  the  French 
nation,  I  hope  my  countrymen  will  be  so  far  Nel- 
sonized  as  after  the  example  of  that  gallant  com- 
mander to  place  their  bibles  in  their  bedchamber 
instead  of  the  metaphysical  or  atheistical  trump- 
ery imported  either  from  France,  Germany  or 
England." 

She  has  no  tolerance  for  Tom  Paine,  demo- 
crat though  he  be.  His  writings  are  "blas- 
phemous and  without  principle." 

Her  intellectual  life  seems  never  to  have 
been  broken  by  any  periods  of  lassitude  or 
dulness.  Though  her  health  might  fail,  her 
voracity  for  knowledge  remained  insatiable. 
Even  when  she  was  a  woman  of  seventy,  retired 
with  her  husband  to  an  uneventful  existence, 
she  could  write :  "  We  read  the  newspapers 
on  all  sides  and  everything  else  we  can  get." 
She  is  forever  lingering  over  memoirs.  These, 


MERCY   WARREN 

with  history,  constitute  her  daily  food.  She 
delights  in  Mrs.  Chapone,  whose  "style  is 
pleasing,  the  sentiments  elegant,  and  the 
observations  instructive."  At  Mrs.  Adams's 
request,  she  reads  Mrs.  Seymour's  Letters  on 
Education,  and  they  provoke  from  her  a  truly 
characteristic  comment;  for  whereas  Mrs. 
Seymour  has  declared  that  generosity  of  dis- 
position is  first  to  be  awakened  in  a  child, 
Mrs.  Warren  urges  that  nothing  should  take 
precedence  of  truth.  Lay  the  foundation  with 
that,  and  all  other  virtues  may  be  built  upon  it. 
Books  and  pamphlets  are  constantly  ex- 
changed between  her  and  her  best  woman 
friend,  accompanied  by  criticisms  and  com- 
ments on  their  reading.  December  11,  1773, 
Mrs.  Adams  writes :  — 

I  send  with  this  the  1  volm  of  Moliere  and 
should  be  glad  of  your  opinion  of  them  —  I  cannot 
be  brought  to  like  them,  there  seems  to  me  to  be 
a  general  want  of  spirit,  at  the  close  of  every  one 
I  have  felt  disappointed.  —  there  are  no  characters 
but  what  appear  unfinished  and  he  seems  to  have 
ridiculed  vice  without  engageing  us  to  Virtue  — 
and  tho  he  sometimes  makes  us  laugh,  yet  tis 
a  smile  of  indignation  —  there  is  one  Negative 
Virtue  of  which  he  is  possess'd  I  mean  that  of 
Decency  ...  I  fear  I  shall  incur  the  Charge  of 
vanity  by  thus  criticising  upon  an  author  who  has 


THOUGHT  AND  OPINION 

met  with  so  much  applause  —  You,  madam,  I  hope 
will  forgive  me.  I  should  not  have  done  it  if  we 
had  not  conversed  about  it  before  — your  judgment 
will  have  great  weight  with 

your  sincere  Friend 

ABIGAIL  ADAMS. 

Mrs.  Warren's  reply  is  dated  January  19, 
1774:  — 

".  .  .  .  I  shall  return  a  small  Folio  belonging 
to  Mr.  Adams  the  first  safe  &  convenient  opportu- 
nity, tell  him  I  almost  regret  the  Curiosity  that 
Led  me  to  wish  to  Look  over  the  pages  in  which 
Human  Nature  is  portray  d  in  so  odious  a  Light 
as  the  Characters  of  the  Borgian  Family  Exhibits. 

"  ...  as  I  am  called  upon  both  by  Mr  &  Mrs 
Adams  to  give  my  opinion  of  a  celebrated  Comic 
Writer,  silence  in  me  would  be  inexcusable  tho 
otherways  my  sentiments  are  of  Little  Consequence. 

the  solemn  strains  of  the  tragic  Muse  have  been 
generally  more  to  my  taste  than  the  Lighter  Repre- 
sentations  of  the  Drama,  yet  I  think  the  Follies 
and  Absurdities  of  Human  Nature  Exposed  to 
Ridicule  in  the  Masterly  Manner  it  is  done  by 
Moliere  may  often  have  a  greater  tendency  to  re- 
form Mankind  than  some  graver  Lessons  of  Moral- 
ity, the  observation  that  he  Ridicules  Vice  without 
Engageing  us  to  Virtue  discovers  the  Veneration 
of  my  Friend  for  the  Latter.  But  when  Vice  is 
held  up  at  once  in  a  detestable  &  Ridiculous  Light, 
&  the  Windings  of  the  Human  Heart  which  Lead 


MERCY  WARREN 

to  self  deception  unfolded  it  certainly  points  us 
to  the  path  of  Eeason  &  Eectitude  .  .  .  and  if 
Mrs.  Adams  will  Excuse  my  freedom  &  energy  I 
will  tell  her  I  see  no  Reason  yet  to  call  in  question 
the  Genius  of  a  Moliere  or  the  judgment  of  the 
person  by  whose  Recommendation  I  read  him." 

One  cannot  but  take  a  sly  sort  of  delight  in 
her  attitude  toward  the  unborn  cause  now 
heralded  under  the  words,  The  Advancement 
of  Woman.  Of  the  organized  protest  of  the 
present  day,  she  anticipated  nothing.  She 
seems  to  have  occupied  the  tranquil  position 
of  a  superiority  which  was  hers  by  right,  and 
always  accorded  her  unasked.  Abigail  Adams, 
on  the  contrary,  did  not  hesitate  to  express 
her  own  dissatisfaction  with  the  recognized 
state  of  things,  and  humorously  appealed  for 
relief  to  the  man  who  could  not  have  given  her 
a  more  reverent  homage  had  she  been  legally 
declared  his  equal :  — 

"He  [Mr.  Adams]  is  very  sausy  to  me  [she 
writes  Mrs.  Warren  in  1776J,  in  return  for  a  List 
of  Female  Grievances  which  I  transmitted  to  him. 
I  think  I  will  get  you  to  join  me  in  a  petition  to 
Congress.  I  thought  it  was  very  probable  our 
Wise  Statesmen  would  erect  a  New  Government 
&  form  a  New  Code  of  Laws,  I  ventured  to  speak  a 
Word  in  behalf  of  our  Sex  who  are  rather  hardly 
Dealt  with  by  the  Laws  of  England  which  gives 


THOUGHT  AND  OPINION 

such  unlimited  power  to  the  Husband  to  use  his 
wife  111.  I  requested  that  our  Legislators  would 
consider  our  case  and  as  all  Men  of  Delicacy  & 
Sentiment  are  averse  to  exercising  the  power  they 
possess,  yet  as  there  is  a  Natural  propensity  in 
>4Iuman  Nature  to  domination  I  thought  the  Most 
Generous  plan  was  to  put  it  out  of  the  power  of 
the  Arbitrary  &  tyranick  to  injure  us  with  impu- 
nity by  establishing  some  Laws  in  our  Favour 
upon  just  &  Liberal  principals. 

/     "  I  believe  I  even  threatened  fomenting  a  Ee- 
f  bellion  in  case  we  were  not  considerd  and  assured 
I  him  we  would  not  hold  ourselves   bound  by  any 
/  Laws  in  which  we  had  neither  a  voice  nor  repre- 
sentation. 

^  "  In  return  he  tells  me  he  cannot  but  Laugh  at 
my  Extradonary  Code  of  Laws  that  he  had  heard 
;heir  struggle  had  loosned  the  bonds  of  Govern- 
ment, that  children  &  apprentices  were  disobedient, 
;hat  Schools  and  Colledges  were  grown  turbulent, 
that  Indians  slighted  their  Guardians  and  Negroes 
grew  insolent  to  their  Masters.  But  my  letter 
was  the  first  intimation  that  another  Tribe  more 
Numerous  &  powerfull  than  all  the  rest  were  grown 
discontented,  this  is  rather  too  coarse  a  compli- 
ment, he  adds,  but  that  I  am  so  sausy  he  wont  blot 
it  out. 

"  So  I  have  helped  the  Sex  abundantly,  but  I 
will  tell  him  I  have  only  been  making  trial  of  the 
disinterestedness  of  his  Virtue  &  when  weighd  in 
the  balance  have  found  it  wanting. 

239 


MERCY  WARREN 

"It  would  be  bad  policy  to  grant  us  greater 
power  say  they  since  under  all  the  disadvantages 
we  labour  we  have  the  ascendancy  over  their 
hearts 

'  And  charm  by  accepting,  by  submitting  sway.' " 

But  though  John  Adams  might  receive  such 
an  appeal  with  a  jest,  he  conceded  royally  to 
feminine  powers.  It  was  in  the  previous  year 

ithat  he  had  said  to  James  Warren,  after  own- 
ing how  inevitable  it  was  that  politics  should 
be  influenced  by  women :  — • 

"But  if  I  were  of  opinion  that  it  was  best  for 
il  general  Rule  that  the  fair  should  be  excused 
from  the  arduous  Cares  of  War  and  State,  I  should 
certainly  think  that  Marcia  and  Portia  ought  to 
be  exceptions,  because  I  have  ever  ascribed  to 
those  Ladies  a  Share  and  no  small  one  neither,  — 
in  the  Conduct  of  our  American  affairs." 

Mrs.  Warren  treads  delicately  the  ground 
occupied  by  the  modern  anti-suffragist  (when 
the  latter  is  a  woman  of  intelligence).  She 
considers  herself  the  equal,  mental  and  moral, 
of  the  more  fortunate  sex ;  hut  she  concludes 
that,  for  purposes  of  social  organization  and 
government,  a  technical  headship  is  neces- 
sary. Such  ascendency  need  not  of  necessity 
find  its  root  in  the  nature  of  things.  It 
merely  happens  that  the  well-being  of  society, 

240 


THOUGHT  AND  OPINION 

according  to  the  Divine  dispensation,  demands 
it.  She  very  concisely  defines  her  "  platform  " 
to  one  of  the  young  ladies  who  so  often  sought 
her  for  counsel  and  advice :  — 

" .  .  .  You  seem  hurt  by  the  general  aspersions  so 
often  thrown  on  the  Understanding  of  ours  by  the 
Illiberal  Part  of  the  other  Sex.  —  I  think  I  feel  no 
partiality  on  the  Female  Side  but  what  arises  from 
a  love  to  Justice,  &  freely  acknowledge  we  too 
often  give  occasion  (by  an  Eager  Pursuit  of  Tri- 
fles) for  Reflections  of  this  Nature.  — Yet  a  discern- 
ing &  generous  Mind  should  look  to  the  origin  of 
the  Error,  and  when  that  is  done,  I  believe  it 
will  be  found  that  the  Deficiency  lies  not  so  much 
in  the  Inferior  Contexture  of  Female  Intellects  as 
in  the  different  Education  bestow'd  on  the  Sexes, 
for  when  the  Cultivation  of  the  Mind  is  neglected 
in  Either,  we  see  Ignorance,  Stupidity,  &  Ferocity 
of  Manners  equally  Conspicuous  in  both. 

"It  is  my  Opinion  that  that  Part  of  the  human 
Species  who  think  Nature  (as  well  as  the  infinitely 
wise  &  Supreme  Author  thereof)  has  given  them 
the  Superiority  over  the  other,  mistake  their  own 
Happiness  when  they  neglect  the  Culture  of  Reason 
in  their  Daughters  while  they  take  all  possible 
Methods  of  improving  it  in  their  sons. 

"  The  Pride  you  feel  on  hearing  Reflections 
indiscriminately  Cast  on  the  Sex,  is  laudable  if 
any  is  so.  —  I  take  it,  it  is  a  kind  of  Conscious 
Dignity  that  ought  rather  to  be  cherish'd,  for 

16  241 


MERCY  WARREN 

while  we  own  the  Appointed  Subordination  (per- 
haps for  the  sake  of  Order  in  Families)  let  us  by 
no  Means  Acknowledge  such  an  Inferiority  as 
would  Check  the  Ardour  of  our  Endeavours  to 
equal  in  all  Accomplishments  the  most  masculine 
Heights,  that  when  these  temporary  Distinctions 
subside  we  may  be  equally  qualified  to  taste  the  full 
Draughts  of  Knowledge  &  Happiness  prepared  for 
the  Upright  of  every  Nation  &  Sex;  when  Virtue 
alone  will  be  the  Test  of  Eank,  &  the  grand 
(Economy  for  an  Eternal  Duration  will  be  properly 
Adjusted." 

There  speaks  the  feminine  wisdom  of  the 
ages :  "  My  dear,  it  may  be  necessary  for  you 
to  seem  inferior ;  but  you  need  not  be  so.  Let 
them  have  their  little  game,  since  it  may  have 
been  so  willed.  It  won't  hurt  you;  it  will 
amuse  them." 

Of  this  same  subtlety  of  worldly  wisdom, 
though  of  another  complexion,  is  the  sage 
advice  written  to  her  son  Henry's  young  wife 
soon  after  marriage:  "Many  of  our  thought- 
less sex  as  soon  as  the  connubial  knot  is  tied 
neglect  continual  attention  (which  is  neces- 
sary without  discovering  the  exertion)  to  keep 
the  sacred  flame  of  love  alive." 

Note  the  significance  of  the  italicized  words ! 
Mrs.  Warren  had  learned  that  the  woman  who 
would  reign  must  be  mistress  of  an  exquisite 
tact. 

242 


THOUGHT  AND  OPINION 

She  is  not  to  be  deluded  by  conventional 
judgments,  the  snap-shots  of  criticism.  In 
writing  Mrs.  Adams,  she  refers  to  their  com- 
mon curiosity  regarding  certain  political  let- 
ters, adding:  — 

"  [It  is]  the  one  quality  which  the  other  sex  so 
generously  Consign  over  to  us.  Though  for  no  other 
Season  but  because  they  have  the  opportunity  of 
indulging  their  inquisitive  Humour  to  the  utmost 
in  the  great  school  of  the  World,  while  we  are  con- 
fined to  the  Narrower  Circle  of  Domestic  Care, 
but  we  have  yet  one  Advantage  peculiar  to  our- 
selves. If  the  Mental  Faculties  of  the  Female 
are  not  improved  it  may  be  Concealed  in  the  ob- 
scure retreats  of  the  Bedchamber  or  the  kitchen 
which  she  is  not  Necessitated  to  Leave." 

But  alas !  when  she  speaks  from  the  inse- 
cure morass  of  nervous  panic  her  conclusions 
are  less  assured.  Thus  does  she  write  in  the 
early  days  of  the  war,  after  much  talk  of  polit- 
ical apprehensions :  — 

"As  our  weak  &  timid  sex  is  only  the  echo 
of  the  other,  &  like  some  pliant  peace  of  Clock 
work  the  springs  of  our  souls  move  slow  or  more 
Kapidly:  just  as  hope,  fear  or  courage  gives  mo- 
tion to  the  conducting  wires  that  govern  all  our 
movements,  so  I  build  much  on  the  high  key 
that  at  present  seems  to  Animate  the  American 
patriots." 

243 


WARREN 

Again  does  she  appear  in  the  field,  in 
outspoken  championship.  Her  son  Winslow 
has  professed  himself  "  enraptured  "  with  Lord 
Chesterfield's  Letters.  This  alone  is  suffi- 
ciently alarming  to  her  moral  sense,  and  she 
writes  him  a  protest  so  scathing  of  the  polite 
author  that  it  was  considered  worthy  a  general 
reading,  and  through  other  hands  found  its 
way  into  the  newspaper  under  the  prefatory 
note :  — 

4 '  The  enclosed  letter  was  written  by  a  Lady 
born  and  educated  in  this  State,  Whose  friends 
bave  repeatedly  ventured  offending  her  delicacy  by 
obliging  tbe  public  with  some  of  her  ingenious 
and  elegant  productions." 

After  criticising  his  lordship's  morals  and 
manners  with  an  unblenching  rigor,  Mrs. 
Warren  takes  him  up  on  this  especially  offen- 
sive point :  — 

"His  Lordship's  severity  to  the  ladies  only 
reminds  me  of  tbe  fable  of  the  lion  and  tbe  man  : 
I  think  his  trite,  backney'd,  vulgar  observations, 
tbe  contempt  be  affects  to  pour  on  so  fair  a  part  of 
the  Creation,  are  as  much  beneath  tbe  resentment 
of  a  woman  of  education  and  reflection,  as  deroga- 
tory to  tbe  candor  and  generosity  of  a  writer  of 
bis  acknowledged  abilities  and  fame;  and  I  believe 
in  this  age  of  refinement  and  philosophy,  few  men 
indulge  a  peculiar  asperity  with  regard  to  the  sex 

244 


THOUGHT  AND  OPINION 

in  general,  but  such  as  have  been  unfortunate  in 
their  acquaintance,  unsuccessful  in  their  address, 
or  sowered  from  repeated  disappointments.  Had 
I  not  made  my  letter  so  lengthy,  I  would  add  an 
observation  or  two  from  the  celebrated  Mr.  Addi- 
son,  who  did  more  to  the  improvement  of  the  Eng- 
lish language  and  to  correct  the  style  of  the  age, 
than,  perhaps,  any  other  man." 

Whatever  conclusions  Mrs.  Warren  formed 
were  distinguished  by  rare  strength  of  judg- 
ment, a  sane  common-sense ;  and  these  could 
not  fail  to  assert  themselves  in  this  question 
of  sex.  She  was  impartial  enough  to  see  that 
tweedledum  is  exceedingly  like  tweedledee. 
Witness  an  example :  When  the  world  curled 
its  haughty  lip  over  Mrs.  Macaulay's  mar- 
riage to  her  callow  suitor,  what  said  Mrs. 
Warren  ?  She  wrote  John  Adams  that  prob- 
ably Mrs.  Macaulay's  "  independency  of  spirit 
led  her  to  suppose  she  might  associate  for  the 
remainder  of  life,  with  an  inoffensive,  oblig- 
ing youth,  with  the  same  impunity  a  gentleman 
of  three  score  and  ten  might  marry  a  damsel 
of  fifteen ! " 

There  was  always  a  tang  in  her  words  like 
that  of  good  honest  cider  or  the  west  October 
wind.  She  could  not  only  think  and  feel,  but 
most  emphatically  she  could  speak. 


245 


XI 
THE  BELOVED  SON 

IN  the  house  of  Winslovv  Warren,  Esq.,  at 
Dedham,  hang  three  portraits  which  are  of 
especial  interest  to  one  who  would  become 
in  the  least  acquainted  with  Madam  Mercy 
Warren.  On  entering  the  room,  you  are 
confronted  by  the  lady  herself,  as  she  appears 
at  the  beginning  of  this  book,  in  her  attitude 
of  well-bred  calm,  one  hand  delicately  ex- 
tended toward  the  enlivening  nasturtiums  of 
the  canvas.  She  is  dressed  in  a  gray-blue 
magnificence  (although  the  list  of  Copley's 
works  does  denominate  it  "  dark-green  satin ! " 
curiously  enough,  a  gown  which  appears  to  be 
the  duplicate  of  several  others  in  the  portraits 
of  that  time),  the  puffs  edged  with  a  gilt 
embroidery,  and  the  sleeves  adorned  by  lace 
which  is  now  in  the  family  possession.  She 
looks  like  a  person  of  great  "  sensibility, "  ab- 
solute firmness,  and  an  admirable  amount  of 
intelligence;  nor  can  we  subscribe  to  her 
own  disparaging  dictum  when,  in  later  life, 

246 


THE  BELOVED  SON 

promising  to  send  Mrs.  Janet  Montgomery  a 
miniature  of  herself,  she  refers  to  hers  as  a 
"  countenance  only  indifferent  in  the  bloom  of 
youth."  Lighted  by  vivacity  and  the  play  of 
varying  expression,  it  must  have  exercised 
great  fascination  of  a  superior  sort.  Her 
neighbor  on  the  wall,  hangs  the  bluff,  florid 
yeoman,  her  husband,  the  man  who  could  tell 
a  good  story,  laugh  a  hearty  laugh,  and  smile 
away  his  wife's  megrims:  "A  good  heart, 
Kate,  is  the  sun  and  moon ;  or,  rather,  the  sun, 
and  not  the  moon ;  for  it  shines  bright,  and 
never  changes,  but  keeps  his  course  truly." 

But  the  third  picture,  a  remarkably  fine 
Copley,  was  one  of  Mrs.  Warren's  chief  treas- 
ures. It  is  the  portrait  of  a  young  man  of 
handsome,  strongly-marked  features,  and  an 
unmistakable  expression  of  pride  bordering  on 
arrogance.  His  eyes  almost  invoke  apologies. 
They  have  the  indisputable  air  of  saying, 
"What  are  you  doing  dans  cette  galere?" 
This  is  Winslow  Warren,  the  son  who  was  at 
once  the  pride  and  the  anxiety  of  his  mother's 
heart;  and  the  picture  is,  according  to  her 
own  words  when  she  received  it,  in  1785,  "a 
most  striking  likeness  of  a  son  inexpressibly 
dear. " 

From  his  letters,  at  least,  he  seems  to  have 
been  a  man  of  much  vigor  of  mind,  and, 

247 


M&RCY  WARREN 

according  to  the  comments  of  others,  well- 
equipped  with  social  graces.  For  during  a 
long  stay  abroad  he  evidently  took  the  stand 
of  a  young  gentleman  of  fortune  and  breeding. 
The  pleasures  of  fashionable  life  especially 
appealed  to  him,  and  he  was  fitted  by  nature 
for  ease  and  gayety.  But  however  he  might 
appear  to  the  world,  his  mother  valued  him 
more  than  "one  entire  and  perfect  chrysolite." 
He  was  not  only  her  cherished  son,  but  her 
adviser,  her  friend.  She  referred  to  him  on 
various  points  which  might  require  the  expe- 
rience of  a  man  of  the  world,  submitting  to 
him  possibilities  of  travel  for  his  younger 
brothers,  and  in  one  case  sending  him  a  copy 
of  her  tragedy,  The  Sack  of  Rome,  with  a 
request  for  his  criticisms.  And  he  gave 
them,  perhaps  with  a  freedom  which  none  of 
the  other  sons  might  so  boldly  have  used. 
The  manuscript  copy  which  travelled  to  Lisbon 
and  back  again  has  his  intelligent  but  free- 
and-easy  remarks,  wherein  he  quarrels  with 
some  of  her  motives,  and  her  unities  of  time 
and  place,  and,  in  short,  treats  her  rather 
like  an  intellectual  equal  than  a  superior. 

He  spent  many  of  the  later  years  of  his  life 
abroad,  and  the  pathos  of  the  mother's  yearn- 
ing love  was  enhanced  by  the  pain  of  that  sep- 
aration. It  was  not  then,  as  now,  a  trifling 

248 


THE  BELOVED  SON 

incident  of  travel  to  "run  over"  for  the  sum- 
mer. Vessels  were  weeks  in  going,  and  let- 
ters were  subject  to  the  chances  not  only  of 
time,  but  of  piracy  and  loss.  It  was  the  nine- 
teenth of  May,  1780,  when  Winslow  sailed, 
carrying,  we  can  imagine,  a  freight  of  fond  in- 
junctions, and  weighted  with  parental  advice. 
His  mother  afterwards  reminded  him  that  they 
sat  together  before  his  sailing,  and  talked,  in 
a  time  of  unprecedented  darkness,  —  a  deeply 
solemn  vigil,  at  least  to  her.  This  was  the 
Dark  Day  so  alarming  to  New  England :  the 
day  when  Colonel  Abraham  Davenport,  of 
Connecticut,  elected  to  do  his  "present  duty," 
and  went  on  with  the  business  of  legislation 
among  the  candles'  "flaring  lights."  To  one 
of  Mrs.  Warren's  temperament  it  might  have 
seemed  ominous  on  the  eve  of  a  step  so  vital. 
At  Newfoundland,  Winslow's  vessel  was  de- 
tained by  the  English;  and,  as  his  mother 
writes  with  pride,  young  as  he  was,  he  vol- 
untarily pledged  himself  as  hostage  for  the 
liberation  of  certain  of  his  countrymen  suffer- 
ing on  board  the  prison  ship  there. 

However,  he  was  very  courteously  treated, 
and  allowed  to  continue  his  journey;  but  in 
England  he  fell  under  suspicion,  during  the 
next  year,  for  keeping  patriotic  company.  On 
April  28,  1781,  he  reports  himself  as  "having 


MERCY  WARREN 

been  arrested  in  London  on  suspicion  of  too 
intimate  an  acquaintance  with  Temple,  Trum- 
bull  &c.  Lord  Hillsborough  asked  me  many 
questions  about  my  situation  &  views  .  .  . 
His  lordship  condescended  to  give  me  a  great 
deal  of  advice  saying  he  was  prepossessed  in 
my  favor  from  my  appearance.  ...  He  lav- 
ished many  praises  on  my  mother's  letters 
said  '  they  would  do  honor  to  the  greatest 
writer  that  ever  wrote  '  and  added  '  Mr.  War- 
ren I  hope  you  will  profit  by  her  instruc- 
tions &  advice.'  I  had  the  honor  of  three 
private  conferences  with  him.  On  the  last 
which  was  the  day  before  I  left  London  I 
requested  a  passport  from  him  to  Ostend.  He 
answered  that  the  communication  was  free 
and  open  to  every  one,  that  he  did  not  think 
it  necessary,  wished  me  a  pleasant  ride  down 
&  an  agreeable  passage  over  .  .  .  After  this 
when  I  arrived  at  Margate  1  was  again  ar- 
rested by  his  lordship's  orders.  You  may 
easily  suppose  how  much  I  was  astonished  at 
this  —  but  I  have  every  reason  to  suppose  it 
was  done  in  hopes  of  getting  hold  of  Mr. 
Temple  —  by  again  seizing  my  papers  but  in 
this  they  are  monstrously  disappointed.  Sir 
James  Wright  told  me  before  I  left  it  that 
I  was  watched  during  my  whole  stay  in  Lon- 
don: where  I  went  —  when  I  removed  lodg- 

250 


THE  BELOVED  SON 

ings —  who  accompanyed  me  to  the  house  of 
Commons  &  who  were  my  acquaintances." 

But  it  was  not  long  after  his  arrival,  in 
July,  1780,  that  we  find  a  cursory  mention  of 
an  enemy  of  our  own :  — 

"  Everybody  or  tout  le  monde  as  the  french  say 
are  attacked  with  the  influenza  which  has  made  the 
tour  of  Europe  coming  from  Eussia  &  so  on  into 
Germany  England  Holland  &c  This  disorder  is 
matter  of  much  Speculation  and  none  can  give  any 
satisfactory  account  of  its  origin  &  cause  —  it  has 
heen  fatal  in  many  places  where  it  has  heen  improp- 
erly treated  in  the  commencement." 

In  November  of  the  same  year  Mrs.  Warren 
had  dramatic  news  to  send  him :  — 

"No  very  capital  stroke  has  heen  struck  on 
either  side.  .  .  .  You  will  have  a  Narrative  of  the 
Blackned  treachery  of  Arnold  and  the  fall  of  the 
Brave  Major  Andre.  — While  every  tongue  acceded 
to  the  justice  of  his  sentence  every  eye  droped  a 
tear  at  the  Necessity  of  its  Execution.  Thus  a  Man 
capable  of  winning  the  Brightest  Laurels  of  Glory 
in  the  field  has  died  by  the  hand  of  the  Execu- 
tioner amidst  the  armies  of  America,  but  without 
one  personal  Enemy." 

From  Nantz,  in  1782,  he  writes  that  he  has 
carried  about  one  of  his  mother's  letters  ever 

251 


MERCY  WARREN 

since  receiving  it,  and  read  it  to  so  many 
Americans  that  he  knows  it  by  heart.  "It 
is, "he  adds  with  emphasis,  "universally  ac- 
knowledged to  be  as  good  language  and  as 
just  sentiment  as  ever  were  put  together." 

Meanwhile  the  Warrens  had,  in  1781,  pur- 
chased the  Governor  Hutchinson  house  at 
Milton,  a  place  which  seemed  thenceforth  to 
be  bound  up  with  dreams  of  Winslow  and 
plans  for  his  coming.  His  mother  approves 
his  enterprise  in  wishing  to  engage  in  mercan- 
tile pursuits  abroad.  Commerce,  she  believes, 
must  broaden  the  mind.  But  she  would  fain 
have  him  at  home,  or  even  settled  abroad 
in  some  steady  pursuit.  One  extract  from 
a  letter  of  his  shows  an  amusingly  different 
temper  in  mother  and  son.  He  is  perpetually 
wishing  to  be  at  home  again,  either  from  some 
personal  love  of  Milton  Hill,  or  from  the 
warmth  with  which  the  family  describe  their 
present  home,  and  one  day  he  adds  jocosely 
that  he  would  gladly  return  and  live  near 
them  in  a  tree-shaded  spot,  with  "a  Woman 
whether  handsome  or  not  would  be  immate- 
rial with  me,  —  provided  she  had  at  least  5000 
Guineas.  I  would  live  in  perfect  happiness. 
my  residence  in  America  was  hardly  long 
enough  to  find  such  a  Girl  —  if  you  will  follow 
the  french  fashion  I  am  at  your  orders." 

252 


THE  BELOVED  SON 

But  this  boldness  of  speech  is  offensive  to 
Mrs.  Warren's  decorum.  She  carefully  cor- 
rects the  letter,  inserts  an  adjective,  so  that 
the  "not  impossible  she"  figures  as  "an 
agreeable  woman,"  and,  carefully  lining  out 
the  crass  and  mercenary  "5000  Guineas," 
supplies  the  more  temperate  phrase,  "  a  com- 
petent fortune." 

In  the  spring  of  1783,  she  writes  him  at 
Philadelphia,  a  glad,  spontaneous  little  cry: 
"  Is  my  son  again  on  the  same  Continent ! " 
and  eighteen  days  later,  after  hearing  that  he 
proposes  returning  to  Europe  without  coming 
to  Milton,  she  breaks  out  in  a  spirit  of  remon- 
strance noticeably  rare  in  her  intercourse  with 
him :  "  It  cannot  —  it  must  not  be ! " 

This  year  a  family  calamity  is  to  be  chron- 
icled. James  Otis,  who  had  been  living  his 
quiet  life  at  a  farmhouse  in  Andover,  was 
killed  by  lightning;  and  thus,  in  June,  does 
Mrs.  Warren  write  her  son :  — 

"The  great  soul  of  this  superior  Man  was  in- 
stantaneously set  free  by  a  shaft  of  lightning  — 
set  free  from  a  thraldom  in  which  the  love  of  his 
Country  and  of  mankind  had  involved  him.  We 
cannot  but  behold  with  wonder  &  astonishment 
the  naming  car  commissioned  to  waft  from  the 
world  one  of  the  greatest  yet  most  unhappy  of 


MERCY   WARREN 

In  a  letter  written  in  March,  1784,  when 
Winslow  is  still  planning  a  trip  abroad,  his 
mother  wonders  with  much  gentleness  whether 
his  continued  absence  from  home  may  not  be 
caused  by  his  dislike  of  saying  good-by ;  but 
the  morrow  is  his  birthday :  "  The  birds  sing 
sweetly  —  come  tomorrow  if  you  can  —  we 
will  have  no  bidding  adieu,  you  shall  see  as 
much  heroism  as  you  wish  in  Yours  &c.  M. 
Warren." 

Did  he  come  ?  Did  she  have  the  peace 
of  that  birthday  to  remember,  with  her  hand- 
some son  at  her  side  ?  Let  us  believe  it,  for 
it  was  to  be  followed  by  another  long  absence. 
Winslow,  still  with  commercial  projects  on 
foot,  went  to  England,  France,  and  Portugal, 
and  in  the  latter  country  settled  at  Lisbon 
in  the  hope  of  receiving  an  appointment  as 
Consul  General  from  the  American  States. 
He  writes  in  very  evident  distaste  for  Lisbon. 
The  city  had  had  her  lesson;  for  after  her 
Babylonian  gayety  had  come  the  earthquake, 
and  the  debris  of  her  ruin  was  not  yet  cleared 
away.  Doubtless  he  heard  there  the  story  of 
the  handsome  Englishman,  Sir  Harry  Frank- 
land,  rescued  from  the  crumbling  city  by 
Agnes  Surriage,  the  unhappy  maid  of  Marble- 
head  ;  but  he  does  not  mention  it.  There  he 
waits  for  his  consular  appointment,  which 

254 


THE  BELOVED  SON 

never  comes,  meanwhile  leading  the  life  of 
a  gentleman  of  ease  and  fashion.  He  is  ex- 
cellently fitted  for  the  consulship,  for  he  has 
learned  the  language,  and  knows  much  of  Con- 
tinental life  and  affairs;  his  mother  implies, 
with  a  little  natural  though  dignified  resent- 
ment, that  the  memory  of  his  father's  distin- 
guished services  in  America  might  have  roused 
certain  high  officials  here  to  the  necessity  of 
advancing  him.  He  does  not  lack  for  society. 
The  English  are  very  polite  to  him,  knowing 
his  official  expectations.  But,  either  out  of 
compliment  to  his  mother,  or  in  some  youth- 
ful discontent,  he  sighs  continually  for  home. 
Mrs.  Warren  tells  him  how  carefully  she  has 
followed  his  direction  in  planting  certain  trees 
at  Milton ;  and  he  responds  in  a  strain  calcu- 
lated to  gladden  her  heart.  He  has  received 
her  letters :  — • 

"I  wish  to  God  [he  adds]  I  was  at  the  Win- 
dow you  wrote  them  from.  Most  assuredly  there 
is  not  so  pleasant  a  one  neither  in  France  nor 
Flanders  —  nor  in  England  or  Holland  —  and  your 
stables  are  vastly  more  pleasant  than  the  Queen's 
palace  in  Lisbon." 

But  how  did  Mrs.  Warren  estimate  modern 
gallantry  when  she  read  a  certain  letter  tell- 
ing how  her  son,  with  a  party  of  friends,  went 

255 


MERCY   WARREN 

"down  the  river  "  sight-seeing  ?  One  of  their 
attendants  struck  a  villager,  "which  was  re- 
sented by  the  whole  &  in  a  few  moments  we 
were  surrounded  by  an  hundred  men  beside 
Women  &  Children.  —  their  Gallantry  was 
our  security.  We  sheltered  ourselves  behind 
the  ladies  untill  an  officer  came  and  liberated 
us  from  our  dangerous  situation  .  .  .  But  the 
dark  assassinating  disposition  of  this  mur- 
derous people  cannot  well  be  conceived  with- 
out a  residence  among  them.  A  Story  is 
related  of  the  minister  of  an  Asiatic  Despot 
that  never  left  his  master's  presence  with- 
out feeling  to  see  if  his  head  was  upon  his 
Shoulders  —  So  I  never  arrive  in  my  chambers 
without  looking  around  me  to  see  if  I  am 
safe  also." 

Meanwhile  the  house  at  Milton,  where 
General  Warren  was  again  in  private  life, 
had  been  left  more  desolate.  George  was 
studying  law  at  Northampton;  and  in  1784 
Mrs.  Warren  writes  that  Charles,  warned  by 
consumptive  symptoms,  had  gone  on  a  voyage 
in  pursuit  of  health.  A  second  voyage  did 
him  no  permanent  good ;  and  in  the  spring  of 
1785,  he  arrived  home  again  from  Hispaniola, 
as  the  island  of  Haiti  was  then  called.  In 
August  of  that  year,  with  a  last  despairing 
attempt  to  use  all  means  for  recovery,  he  set 

256 


THE  BELOVED  SON 

sail  for  Europe,  and  died  at  Cadiz,  alone,  save 
for  his  attendant.  He  met  with  great  kind- 
ness in  that  land  of  strangers  and  an  alien 
belief.  At  the  end  a  father  of  the  Catholic 
Church  offered  him  the  consolations  of  that 
faith;  but,  as  his  mother  recounts  with  a 
sorrowful  pride,  he  refused  to  accept  them, 
and  died  in  the  religion  of  his  fathers. 

Winslow's  last  return  from  Europe  was  in 
the  spring  of  1791;  and  instead  of  going  to 
the  warm  home-corner  in  Milton,  he  was  de- 
tained in  Boston  (through  some  personal  dif- 
ficulties, it  would  seem),  and  there  he  was 
compelled  to  linger,  while  his  mother's  heart 
must  have  been  wrung  with  an  almost  unbear- 
able poignancy  of  pain.  Her  letters,  though 
written  with  a  careful  self-restraint,  are  almost 
too  intimate,  too  sacred,  to  be  quoted.  She 
still  preserves  toward  him  that  patient  obedi- 
ence to  his  desires  which  is  so  pathetic  from 
a  mother  to  the  son  who  has  once  lain  in  her 
arms.  Her  own  prayer  is  to  make  nothing 
harder  for  him.  She  wishes,  of  course,  to  fly 
to  him ;  but  since  he  prefers  her  to  remain  at 
home  and  keep  a  bold  front,  she  will  obey. 
At  this  time  her  husband  proposes  her  giving 
a  dinner  to  certain  of  his  associates,  and  she 
admits  the  policy  of  thus  preserving  the  dig- 
nity and  decorum  of  life,  though  her  head  may 

17  257 


MERCY  WARREN 

have  been  brought  in  sorrow  to  the  dust.  One 
can  imagine  the  brave  lady  sitting  through 
that  dinner,  composed  and  smiling,  with  the 
fox  gnawing  at  her  heart.  But  by  dint  of 
much  exertion,  Winslow's  affairs  were  ar- 
ranged, and  he  joined  St.  Glair's  forces  organ- 
ized for  the  suppression  of  the  Indian  troubles 
in  the  West,  setting  off  hastily,  no  doubt,  — 
for  he  did  not  see  his  mother  before  he  went. 
Her  spirit  was  never  broken,  but  it  had  by 
this  time  become  subdued  and  chastened,  and 
the  patience  breathing  through  her  letters 
comes  touchingly  from  one  so  proud  and  firm. 
She  loses  heart  for  her  literary  work,  and  faith 
in  its  success.  On  the  tenth  of  June  she  writes 
Winslow:  — 

"It  is  my  wish,  if  there  is  any  value  in  my 
printed  volume  [the  Poems]  to  bequeath  the  copy- 
right solely  to  your  use.  I  have  nothing  else  I 
can  so  properly  call  my  own." 

That  which  is  most  truly  her  own  must 
belong  to  him ;  the  others  are  tenderly  loved, 
but  he  is  a  part  of  her  very  self.  Then,  sud- 
denly, terribly,  came  the  final  blow.  Winslow 
was  killed,  November  4,  1791,  at  Miami,  in  St. 
Clair's  defeat.  Thereafter  little  dismal  cir- 
cumstances came  dropping  in  to  irritate  her 
wound.  She  was  eager  to  receive  his  trunk, 
and,  after  long  delay,  it  appeared;  but  it  had 

258 


THE  BELOVED  SON 

been  several  times  opened  on  the  way,  and 
was  found  to  contain  nothing  of  value.  She 
had  hoped  for  something  intimate,  personal, 
like  a  message  from  his  hand;  but  the  tragedy 
was  to  be  consistent  to  the  end,  —  silence  and 
parting.  A  year  after,  in  language  as  true  as 
simple,  she  wrote  of  his  death  that  it  was  "a 
wound  too  deep  for  philosophy  to  palliate  or 
the  hand  of  time  ever  to  heal."  One  little 
treasure  which  had  been  near  him  she  did 
possess.  His  brother  George  had  inherited 
Winslow's  watch,  and  he  loaned  it  to  his 
mother  for  life. 

In  November  of  1791  Henry  married  Mary 
Winslow,  daughter  of  Pelham  Winslow,  and 
settled  at  Clifford.  But  Mrs.  Warren  was  to 
have  only  two  sons  near  her  in  old  age,  for 
George,  on  the  completion  of  his  studies,  went 
to  Maine,  and  there  not  only  practised  law, 
but  became  an  ardent  agriculturist  (inheritor 
of  his  father's  tastes),  a  politician,  and  a  land- 
owner. Indeed,  he  bought  land  until  both 
father  and  mother  wondered  over  the  wisdom 
of  such  accumulation.  No  one  could  take 
Winslow's  place  in  the  mother's  heart,  but  1 
fancy  it  is  easy  to  find  in  her  letters  to  George 
a  peculiar  warmth  and  intimacy,  the  more  pro- 
nounced when  he  developed  what  proved  to  be 
a  mortal  illness. 


MERCY  WARREN 

In  1800,  his  father  is  also  ailing,  and  neither 
he  nor  the  two  other  sons  can  undertake  that 
long  journey  through  the  drifted  Maine  snows, 
conscious  though  they  are  that  George  has 
abandoned  all  hope  of  recovery.  Mrs.  War- 
ren's letters  then  become  very  yearning  and 
tender.  She  assures  her  son  again  and  again 
of  their  affection  for  him.  The  need  of  ex- 
pression grows  with  his  weakness.  They  love 
him;  they  long  to  be  with  him.  It  is  only 
the  hard  circumstances  of  illness  and  rough 
weather  which  prevent.  This  is  a  good  and 
thoughtful  son,  one  after  her  own  heart,  who 
had  been,  as  she  said  of  her  dearer  child, 
educated  "according  to  the  tenets  of  Greek 
patriotism  and  Roman  virtue,  with  Chris- 
tian precepts."  They  exchange  criticisms  and 
comments  on  the  Book  of  Job,  and  George, 
ever  a  good  citizen,  consults  her  as  to  the 
principles  of  government.  He  confides  to  her 
the  status  of  his  beloved  new  town,  Winslow, 
and  in  connection  with  his  desire  to  establish 
there  a  church  of  the  most  liberal  principles, 
grave  counsel  falls  from  her  lips.  She  owns 
her  reverence  for  breadth  of  belief,  but  urges 
him  not  to  fall  on  the  other  side.  She  bids 
him  remember  that  "there  are  bigots  to  liber- 
ality as  well  as  to  superstition." 

One    amusing    instance   of  the    difference 

260 


THE  BELOVED  SON 

between  her  and  General  Warren  in  their 
manner  of  regarding  old  age  appears  in  this 
correspondence.  Throughout  George's  life  in 
Maine  he  has  the  strongest  desire  to  induce 
his  father  to  visit  him ;  but  the  good  patriot- 
farmer  has  reached  the  point  where  it  is  easier 
to  stay  by  his  own  hearth.  Even  when  he  is 
temporarily  forsaken  by  the  gout,  and  thus  in 
good  health,  he  still  defers  and  hesitates. 
Mrs.  Warren,  on  the  contrary,  not  only  urges 
her  husband  to  go,  but  would  even  set  forth 
herself,  if  he  and  the  other  sons  would  con- 
sent. They  think  the  weather  too  rigorous, 
the  journey  too  hard  for  her  years ;  but  she 
has  no  doubt,  so  she  boldly  announces,  that 
she  could  bear  it  very  well,  and  that  it  would 
do  her  good.  There  was  no  growing  old  for 
her,  not  even  when  she  had  to  record  long 
and  frequent  illnesses,  and  confinement  to  her 
elbow-chair.  She  had  a  spirit  indomitably 
young. 

The  bulletins  from  Maine  grew  sadder  and 
more  sad.  The  waiting  family  were  placed 
in  that  terrible  position  of  an  enforced  and 
idle  patience.  George  wants  for  nothing. 
His  mother  has  not  even  the  pleasure  of  find- 
ing it  necessary  to  send  him  little  delicacies, 
for  he  can  find  them  there.  He  has  friends. 
He  has  everything  save  the  personal  tendance 


MERCY   WARREN 

of  his  own  kin.  Then  comes  the  news  that  he 
has  died,  as  his  mother  writes,  "  an  example 
of  Christian  fortitude."  The  Warrens,  like 
the  Stuarts,  could  die  like  gentlemen. 

March  23,  1800,  Mrs.  Warren  writes  from 
Plymouth  to  her  brother,  Samuel  Allyne  Otis, 
at  Philadelphia :  — 

"Rightly  my  dear  brother  have  you  denomi- 
nated me  your  afflicted  sister,  the  waves  have 
rolled  in  upon  me  —  the  billows  have  repeatedly 
broken  over  me :  yet  I  am  not  sunk  down.  ...  I 
have  been  broken  by  sickness  bent  down  by  sor- 
row, yet  here  I  stand  —  and  may  I  stand  cheerfully 
humbly  and  gratefully  rejoicing  in  the  present  ex- 
istence so  long  as  I  can  in  any  degree  be  useful 
to  my  diminished  circle  of  domestic  friends." 

It  is  not  difficult  to  guess  at  the  charac- 
ter of  young  Winslow  Warren,  for  his  let- 
ters abundantly  illuminate  it;  but  as  to  the 
others,  there  is  less  basis  for  speculation. 
Mrs.  Warren  had  written  Mrs.  Adams  in  1785 
that  George  was  a  "very  dilligent  student;" 
that  Henry  was  "  not  too  gay, "  and  that  he  and 
Charles,  as  soon  as  the  health  of  the  latter 
would  permit,  wished  to  take  the  "mansion 
and  stores  "  at  Plymouth,  and  go  into  business 
together.  But  that  was  never  to  be.  One 
deliciously  priggish  bit  of  epistolary  litera- 

262 


THE  BELOVED  SON 

ture  remains  to  the  memory  of  these  two 
brothers,  a  relic  of  their  college  days.  In 
1780  Charles  had  written  his  father  from 
Cambridge :  — 

"We  make  progress  in  Literature.  We  are 
both  studious  and  sober  —  seldom  surly,  often  Sen- 
timental, kind,  affable,  gentle  &  generous  to  each 
other,  &  harmless  as  Doves,  —  we  enter  deep 
enough  in  Study  for  the  improvement  of  our  minds, 
—  and  deep  enough  in  amusements  (and  believe 
me  Sir  no  deeper  than)  for  the  advantage  of  our 
bodies." 

Is  this  written  in  a  Rollo-esque  sincerity, 
or  did  the  scribe  read  it  aloud  with  a  wicked 
roll  of  the  eye  for  his  brother's  delectation  ? 
For  even  college  lads  were  not  an  absolutely 
different  species  a  hundred  years  ago. 


263 


XII 
ON  MILTON  HILL 

To  return  to  one  definite  phase  of  personal 
history  is  to  find  that  the  step  accomplished 
by  the  Warrens  in  1781  had  been  earnestly 
debated  in  family  council.  This  was  the  pur- 
chase of  the  Governor  Hutchinson  house  at 
Milton;  and  it  was  a  venture  which  might 
have  been  regarded  as  not  altogether  wise, 
since  the  father  and  mother  were  no  longer 
young,  and  by  no  means  in  the  best  worldly 
circumstances.  The  bargain  was  concluded, 
not  without  serious  misgivings  of  their  own, 
for  the  reduction  of  their  fortune  was  no  mere 
figure  of  speech.  They  could  only  pay  for 
their  new  plaything  by  the  exercise  of  strict 
economy,  as  General  Warren  implied  in  writ- 
ing his  son  Winslow,  who  had  not  been  long 
abroad : — 

"...  Were  I  not  pushed  to  pay  for  this  Farm 
I  should  forward  you  some  Bills,  but  as  matters 
are  it  is  out  of  my  power,  every  resource  must 
be  Employed  for  that  purpose  and  barely  sufficient 
will  they  all  prove  for  payments  now  due.  for  you 
are  to  consider  I  can  sell  nothing  at  Plymouth." 

264 


ON  MILTON  HILL 

There  is  a  strange  dramatic  interest  in  the 
fact  that  the  house  of  the  detested  Hutchinson 
should  have  come  into  the  hands  of  two 
patriots  who  regarded  him  with  cordial  abomi- 
nation, and  one  of  whom  had  affixed  a  last- 
ing stigma  to  his  name.  It  had  as  pictur- 
esque a  history  as  that  of  any  old  house  in  the 
Province.  It  was  in  the  happiest  possible 
situation,  and  Governor  Hutchinson  had  not 
found  it  necessary  to  embroider,  when,  in 
conversation  with  George  III.,  1774,  recounted 
in  his  Diary  and  Letters,  he  said :  — 

"  My  house  is  seven  or  eight  miles  from  town,  a 
pleasant  situation,  and  many  gentlemen  from  abroad 
say  it  has  the  finest  prospect  from  it  they  ever  saw, 
except  where  great  improvements  have  been  made 
by  art,  to  help  the  natural  view." 

It  had  indeed  a  rich  and  lovely  outlook. 
Only  far  enough  away  to  lie  bathed  in  the 
bloom  of  distance  lay  the  blue  hills  of  Milton. 
Facing  the  house  was  a  dream-landscape  of 
delight:  sweet  meadows  dressed  in  green,  or 
the  soft  russet  of  the  yellowing  year,  where 
the  Neponset  River  winds  and  lingers ;  and 
still  beyond,  Boston  Harbor,  with  its  twink- 
ling lights  at  night  and  sunlit  brilliance  by 
day.  To  the  left  lay  the  sleeping  city,  far 
enough  away  to  intensify  the  peace  ever 

265 


MERCY   WARREN 

crowning  the  hill ;  and  plumy  trees  and  haze- 
clad  greenery  softened  and  allured  between. 
This  was  Neponset  (in  the  beginning,  the 
Indian  Unquity),  and  with  the  first  half  of  the 
eighteenth  century  it  rose  rapidly  in  social 
importance.  The  eyes  of  the  prosperous  and 
the  officially  great  were  attracted  to  it  from 
its  promise  of  peace  and  the  ever-present 
witchery  of  beauty;  and  among  them  was 
Thomas  Hutchinson,  who,  in  1743,  built  the 
house  afterwards  to  pass  into  the  hands  of 
James  Warren.  He  builded  well  and  on  good 
old  models  tested  by  time.  Says  the  author 
of  The  Governor's  Garden:  — 

(l  The  house  stood  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from 
the  wooden  bridge  crossing  the  Neponset  River,  set 
well  back  from  the  Braintree  road.  The  frame  was 
of  English  white  oak,  so  solid  that  what  remains  of 
it  to-day  scarcely  feels  the  sharp  edge  of  the  car- 
penters' tools.  The  plan  was  a  simple  one,  but  the 
unrivalled  scenery  of  hill,  river  and  ocean  lent  it  a 
special  charm.  The  walls  were  fully  a  foot  thick, 
and  packed  with  seaweed  to  keep  off  the  cold  in 
winter,  and  the  heat  in  summer.  [It  was]  a  long 
low  structure  with  pitched  roof  and  gable  ends  ; 
...  In  its  east  end  were  the  coach-house  and 
stables ;  beyond,  the  quarters  for  cattle  and  swine, 
and  haylofts  above.  To  the  west  of  this  was  the 
farm-house  and  outlying  buildings." 


ON  MILTON  HILL 

Society  was  born  on  Milton  Hill  and  flour- 
ished there;  and  no  one  was  better  fitted  to 
give  it  tone  and  flavor  than  he  who,  as  Governor 
of  the  Province,  was  destined  to  be  rejected 
by  the  people.  There  were  gay  doings  then 
at  Milton,  as  well  as  in  the  fine  mansions  of 
Boston  town.  Even  the  memoranda  relative 
to  the  Governor's  "deaths"  are  enough  to 
paint  a  picture  of  the  stately  scene  wherein 
he  figured,  bravely  arrayed.  Like  all  the 
proper  men  of  his  day  (critical  because  they 
had  some  liberty  of  choice  beyond  our  rigorous 
black  and  white !),  he  was  thoughtful  and  even 
exacting  over  his  wardrobe.  One  oft-quoted 
extract  shows  him  at  his  best  in  this  mood 
of  deliberation  over  such  vital  minutiae.  On 
October  5,  1769,  after  his  elevation  to  the 
chief  magistracy,  he  sends  to  London  for  ap- 
propriate furbishing :  — 

To  Mr.  Peter  Leitch  : 

I  desire  to  have  you  send  me  a  blue  cloth  waist- 
coat trimmed  with  the  same  color,  lined,  the  skirts 
and  facings,  with  effigeen,  and  the  body  linnen  to 
match  the  last  blue  cloath  I  had  from  you :  —  two 
under  waistcoats  or  camisols  of  warm  swansdown, 
without  sleeves,  faced  with  some  cheap  silk  or 
shagg.  A  suit  of  cloaths  full-trimmed,  the  cloath 
some  thing  like  the  enclosed,  only  more  of  a  gray 
mixture,  gold  button  and  hole,  but  little  wadding 

2G7 


MERCY  WARREN 

lined  with  effigeen.  I  like  a  wrought,  or  flowered, 
or  embroidered  hole,  something  though  not  exactly 
like  the  hole  upon  the  cloaths  of  which  the  pat- 
tern is  enclosed;  or  if  frogs  are  worn,  I  think  they 
look  well  on  the  coat;  hut  if  it  he  quite  irregular, 
I  would  have  neither  one  or  the  other,  but  such  a 
hole  and  button  as  are  worn.  I  know  a  laced  coat 
is  more  the  mode,  but  this  is  too  gay  for  me.  A 
pair  of  worsted  breeches  to  match  the  color,  and  a 
pair  of  black  velvet  breeches,  the  breeches  with 
leather  linings.  Let  them  come  by  the  first  ship. 
P.  S.  If  there  be  no  opportunity  before  February, 
omit  the  camisols,  and  send  a  green  waistcoat,  the 
forebodies  a  strong  corded  silk, —  not  the  cor  du 
soie,  but  looks  something  like  it, —  the  sleeves  and 
bodies  sagathee  or  other  thin  stuff,  body  lined 
with  linen,  skirts  filk.  My  last  cloaths  were 
rather  small  in  the  arm-holes,  but  the  alterations 
must  be  very  little,  next  to  nothing. 

Again,  in  1773,  his  wardrobe  needs  a  further 
replenishing:  — 

"  I  desire  you  to  send  me  by  the  first  opportunity 
a  suit  of  scarlet  broad-cloth,  full  trimmed  but  with 
few  folds,  and  shalloon  lining  in  the  body  of  the 
coat  and  facing,  the  body  of  the  waistcoat  linen, 
and  the  breeches  lining  leather,  plain  mohair  but- 
ton-hole; also,  a  cloth  frock  with  waistcoat  and 
breeches,  not  a  pure  white  but  next  to  it,  upon  the 
yellow  rather  than  blue,  —  I  mean  a  color  which 
has  been  much  worn  of  late,  button-holes  and  lin- 

268 


ON  MILTON  HILL 

ing  the  same,  the  coat  to  have  a  small  rolling  cape 
or  collar.  — Also,  a  surtout  of  light  shag  or  beaver, 
such  color  as  is  most  in  fashion  :  a  velvet  cape 
gives  a  little  life  to  it.  ...  Write  me  whether 
any  sort  of  garment  of  the  fashion  of  velvet  coats, 
to  wear  over  all,  which  were  common  some  years 
ago,  are  now  worn,  and  whether  of  cloth,  and  what 
color  and  trimmings.  I  should  not  chuse  velvet." 

One  would  fain  have  seen  the  personable 
Governor  in  his  scarlet  broadcloth  "full- 
trimmed,"  or  his  surtout  of  the  fashionable 
color,  walking,  stately  and  gracious,  down 
Milton  Hill,  exchanging  an  affable  word  with 
his  neighbors.  So  fond  is  he  of  that  where- 
with he  is  clothed,  that  one  feels  a  regretful 
pang  over  his  rare  self-denial.  One  would 
fain  have  assured  him  that  the  laced  coat  of 
the  prevailing  mode  was  not  in  the  least  too 
gay.  Surely  the  Governor  could  have  carried 
it  off!  But  if  his  buttonholes  turned  out  irre- 
proachable, doubtless  that  was  an  abiding  com- 
fort, —  all  the  mere  human  satisfaction  one 
could  expect  in  a  fleeting  world. 

An  accomplished  scholar  and  a  gentleman, 
at  one  time  universally  trusted  and  beloved, 
Governor  Hutchinson  had  the  tastes  of  the 
country  squire;  and  these  he  indulged  at 
Milton,  where  he  was  far  enough  from  the 
turmoil  of  office  to  become  forgetful  of  it,  save 


MERCY   WARREN 

in  those  great  exigencies  when  it  clamored 
after  him  and  pursued  his  track.  He  dearly 
loved  the  good  brown  earth,  and  it  was  his 
pleasure  to  experiment  with  fruits,  to  set  out 
trees,  budding  and  grafting  them  with  his  own 
hand.  A  row  of  sycamores  on  either  side  of 
the  street  leading  over  Milton  Hill  were  the 
Governor's  gift,  planted  not  alone  by  his  will, 
but  partially  through  his  personal  effort.  For, 
says  tradition,  he  worked  among  the  laborers 
deputed  to  the  task,  wielding  his  spade  with 
the  best.  The  trees  (all  but  one  survivor) 
have  died  out  within  the  present  century; 
but  substitutes  have,  through  the  care  of  good 
citizenship,  replaced  them.  Thomas  Hutchin- 
son  was  also  a  good  citizen,  a  public-spirited 
and  generous  man.  The  highway  over  Milton 
Hill  was  a  narrow  thoroughfare  until  he  gave 
a  strip  from  his  own  estate  to  turn  it  into 
that  imposing  highway  of  which  Milton  is 
justly  proud  He  was  on  excellent  terms  with 
his  neighbors  until  public  disturbances  rose  to 
spoil  domestic  peace;  and  he  spent  many  of 
his  few  tranquil  days  among  them,  mingling 
in  the  village  life,  sometimes  attending  the 
local  church,  and  again  driving  into  Boston  to 
King's  Chapel,  his  chosen  place  of  worship. 
Milton's  History  quotes  a  bit  of  remembered 
tradition  pointing  to  the  fact  that  the  Governor 

270 


ON  MILTON  HILL 

was  very  humanly  regarded  by  his  townsmen, 
and  that  he  could  even  be  chaffed  upon 
occasion :  — 

"  One  pleasant  Sabbath  afternoon,  as  he  was  re- 
turning in  his  carriage  [from  King's  Chapel],  he 
found  himself  stopped  by  the  village  tithingmaii 
with  his  long  black  wand.  The  tithingman  was 
an  Irishman  of  wit,  and  some  standing  in  society, 
who  had  been  elected  as  a  joke.  He  accosted  the 
Governor : 

<(  l  Your  Excellence,  it  is  my  business  when 
people  travel  on  the  Sabbath  to  know  where  they 
have  been  and  where  they  are  going.'  To  this  the 
Governor  replied : 

"'Friend  Smith,  I  have  been  to  Boston,  and 
attended  my  own  church  both  parts  of  the  day,  and 
have  heard  two  very  fine  sermons.'  To  this  Smith 
responded,  '  Faith,  sir.  the  best  thing  you  can  do 
is  to  go  home  and  make  a  good  use  of  them ! '  And 
the  Governor  drove  on." 

Hutchinson  was  on  Neponset  Hill  (for  this 
was  the  name  used  by  these  earlier  residents 
interchangeably  with  Milton  and  Milton  Hill) 
when  the  Bostonians  gave  their  famous  Tea 
Party,  a  festivity  to  which  he  was  not  in- 
vited. His  own  account  of  it  to  the  Earl  of 
Dartmouth  sufficiently  shows  his  trouble  of 
mind,  his  fatuous  inflexibility.  The  de- 
spatch was  dated  December  17,  1773:  — 


WARREN 

"my  Lord,  the  owner  of  the  ship  Dartmouth, 
which  arrived  with  the  first  teas,  having  been  re- 
peatedly called  upon  by  what  are  called  the  Com- 
mittee of  Correspondence  to  send  the  ship  to  sea, 
and  refusing,  a  meeting  of  the  people  was  called 
and  the  owner  required  to  demand  a  clearance  from 
the  custom-house,  which  was  refused, —  and  then  a 
permit  from  the  naval  officer  to  pass  the  Castle, 
which  was  also  refused ;  —  after  which  he  was  re- 
quired to  apply  to  me  for  the  permit;  and  yester- 
day, towards  evening,  came  to  me  at  Milton,  and 
I  soon  satisfied  him  that  no  such  permit  would  be 
granted  until  the  vessel  was  regularly  cleared.  He 
returned  to  town  after  dark  in  the  evening,  and 
reported  to  the  meeting  the  answer  I  had  given 
him.  Immediately  thereupon  numbers  of  the  people 
cried  out,  '  A  Mob !  a  Mob  ! '  left  the  house,  re- 
paired to  the  wharf,  where  three  of  the  vessels  lay 
aground,  having  on  board  three  hundred  and  forty 
chests  of  tea,  and  in  two  hours'  time  it  was  wholly 
destroyed.  The  other  vessel,  Captain  Loring,  was 
cast  ashore  on  the  back  of  Cape  Cod  in  a  storm,  and 
I  am  informed  the  tea  is  landed  upon  the  beach,  and 
there  is  reason  to  fear  what  has  been  the  fate  of  it. 
I  sent  expresses  this  morning  before  sunrise  to  sum- 
mon a  Council  to  meet  me  at  Boston,  but  by  reason 
of  the  indisposition  of  three  of  them  I  could  not 
make  a  quorum.  I  have  ordered  new  summons  this 
afternoon,  for  the  Council  to  meet  me  at  Milton 
tomorrow  morning.  What  influence  this  violence 
and  outrage  may  have  I  cannot  determine." 

272 


ON  MILTON  HILL 

He  was  terribly  moved  with  anxiety  and 
uncertainty  of  the  proper  course  to  take ;  for 
most  of  all  did  he  wish  to  prevent  any  reck- 
less deed  (involving  a  "  promise  to  pay  "  in 
the  form  of  subsequent  action),  either  on  his 
own  part  or  that  of  the  angry  citizens. 

His  days  were  not  to  be  long  in  the  land  he 
so  tenderly  loved.  A  civilian  was  scarcely,  at 
this  juncture,  suited  to  the  cares  of  state.  On 
May  13,  1774,  General  Gage  arrived  to  take 
his  place ;  and  on  the  first  of  June  in  that  year 
the  hated  Hutchinson  left  his  Milton  manor 
for  what,  he  believed,  would  be  but  a  tempo- 
rary absence  in  England.  Milton  could  never 
have  been  lovelier  than  in  that  month  when  he 
departed  from  her  forever.  She  was  clothed 
in  the  new  green  of  the  year,  and  jocund  in 
fairness.  All  the  "tender  nurslings"  of  his 
garden  smiled  up  to  bid  him  an  unconscious 
farewell.  But  possibly  his  mood  at  parting 
was  not  irretrievably  heavy,  because  he  could 
hug  to  his  heart  the  prospect  of  return.  Had 
some  prophetic  instinct  suggested  to  him  the 
certainty  of  an  unending  exile,  had  some  voice 
whispered, 

"  All  these  things  forever  —  forever  —  thou  must  leave," 

there  would  have  been  in  his  soul  the  bitter- 
ness of  death.     He  walked  down  the  Hill  bid- 
is  273 


MERCY  WARREN 

ding  his  neighbors  on  the  right  and  left  a 
dignified  farewell.  They  could  not  but  honor 
him  in  his  capacity  of  private  citizen;  and 
even  those  who  had  learned  the  prevalent  dis- 
trust may  have  been  awed  and  hushed  for  the 
moment  by  the  fulfilment  of  their  desires. 
He  entered  his  coach,  and  was  driven  to 
Dorchester  Point,  whence  he  was  rowed  over 
to  the  island  of  Castle  William  (now  Fort 
Independence),  and  thence  he  set  sail.  But  if 
those  who  hated  him,  believing  him  to  be 
the  arch-enemy  of  liberty,  could  have  guessed 
how  fondly  his  after-thoughts  returned  to  the 
land  of  his  birth,  they  would  have  owned  that 
his  punishment  for  what  they  considered  wil- 
ful treachery  was  up  to  the  measure  of  his 
deserts.  He  loved  America.  Ever  in  Eng- 
land did  his  mind  turn  fondly  back  to  her, 
and  it  was  Milton  for  which  he  longed.  He 
wrote  his  son  that  he  had  "shipped  for  his 
Milton  garden  a  parcel  of  cuttings  of  much 
finer  gooseberries  than  he  ever  saw  in  New 
England."  He  expressed  his  anxiety  about 
the  pear  orchard,  and  gave  orders  to  have  the 
"stocks  that  failed  last  year  re-grafted."  "I 
can,"  he  said,  "with  good  proof  assure  you 
that  I  had  rather  live  at  Milton  than  at  Kew." 
After  visiting  Lord  Hardwick's  house,  Wim- 
pole  Hall,  he  exclaimed,  "This  is  high  life, 

274 


ON  MILTON  HILL 

but  I  would  not  have  parted  with  my  humble 
cottage  at  Milton  for  the  sake  of  it." 

When  he  took  his  departure,  a  large  mass 
of  manuscript  was  left  behind.  He  was  a  man 
of  great  method,  and  had  carefully  preserved 
documents,  both  important  and  unimportant, 
in  his  letter-books.  These,  when  the  tea-mobs 
threatened  him,  he  carried  to  Milton ;  and,  as 
he  owned,  it  did  not  come  into  his  head  where 
he  had  put  them.  The  house  had  been  left  in 
charge  of  the  gardener,  and  it  was  not  until 
after  April  19,  1775,  that  the  authorities 
wakened  to  the  necessity  of  taking  possession 
of  it;  and  meantime  it  had  been  entered,  and 
many  articles  carried  away.  Tradition  says 
that  the  letter-books  were  originally  found 
in  the  sacking  of  beds;  and  they  were  ulti- 
mately bought  by  the  State  for  fifty  pounds,  on 
the  chance  of  their  containing  important  evi- 
dence. The  entire  correspondence  is  now  in 
the  possession  of  the  Massachusetts  Archives 
in  the  office  of  the  Secretary  of  State. 

When  Governor  Hutchinson  said  patheti- 
cally, "New  England  is  wrote  upon  my  heart 
in  as  strong  characters  as  '  Calais '  was  upon 
Queen  Mary's,"  he  expressed  an  affection  not 
in  the  least  surprising.  Neponset  Hill  was  a 
spot  to  be  beloved,  and  the  Warrens  loved  it 
no  less  than  he.  After  he  left  the  country,  the 

275 


MERl'Y  WARREN 

estate  passed  into  the  hands  of  a  merchant, 
Samuel  Broome,  of  whom  James  Warren 
bought  it.  It  is  a  very  pretty  letter  which 
Mrs.  Warren  writes  her  husband  in  regard  to 
the  purchase.  She  is  evidently  a  little  shy 
as  to  the  responsibilities  of  the  step,  but  all 
eagerness  for  him  to  have  his  heart's  desire. 
And  she  closes  the  letter  with  a  burst  of 
affection  which  for  once  forces  her  quite 
outside  her  shell  of  decorous  reserve.  First 
of  all,  he  must  not,  on  any  account,  regret 
the  step  he  has  taken,  unwise  though  it  may 
seem :  — 

What  sort  of  a  Mistress  I  shall  make  at  the  head 
of  a  family  of  Husbandmen  &  Dairymaids  I  know 
not  but  your  inclination  shall  be  my  Care.  I  beg 
you  would  not  be  anxious  about  paying  for  the 
place  if  you  bave  really  made  your  bargain.  I  don't 
doubt  we  shall  get  through  that  by  &  by.  ...  I 
know  no  place  within  twenty  miles  of  Boston  I  like 
so  well.  Indeed  I  tbink  tbere  cannot  be  a  pleas- 
anter  spot  &  if  Life  is  spared  us  I  do  not  believe 
you  or  I  sball  regret  the  purchase.  .  .  .  believe  I 
am  very  Happy  with  a  flock  of  Dear  Children  about 
me  who  seem  always  pleased  to  see  me  so. 

I  hope  I  never  sball  be  unmindful  of  the  full 
Cup  of  Blessings  showered  on  our  heads. 

But  in  a  kind  &  faithful  friend  is  doubled  all 
my  store  — 

276 


ON  MILTON  HILL 

I  am  his  gratful  affectionate  fond  tender  Cheer- 
ful Careful  Dutiful  Wife 

M.  WARREN. 
Let  me  insist  upon  it  you 
do  not  Lie  awake  pospone 
your  Calculations  and  your  Cares  till 
you  return.    I  will  help  you  make  the 
one  &  Dissipate  the  other. 

Thus  the  father  writes  to  Winslow,  who 
has  been  a  year  abroad:  — 

BOSTON  June  3, 1781. 

MY  DEAR  WINSLOW,  —  I  came  to  Town  two 
days  ago  with  your  Mamah  &  Brother  George  hav- 
ing left  Plymouth  for  the  present  to  reside  at  Mil- 
ton upon  the  Farm  that  was  Governor  Hutchinson's 
which  I  purchased  last  Winter  of  Mr.  Broome  as  I 
have  wrote  you  in  a  former  Letter,  our  Furniture 
is  on  the  Water  &  I  hope  will  be  up  Tomorrow. 
When  you  return  shall  he  happy  to  see  you  at  our 
new  habitation.  This  remove  is  thought  by  some 
an  Extraordinary  Step  at  our  Time  of  Life,  is  ap- 
plauded by  some  &  thought  by  others  to  be  wrong, 
but  if  you  have  not  altered  your  Mind  is  an  Event 
that  falls  within  your  Taste. 

Again  he  writes :  — 

BOSTON  September  28, 1781. 

...  I  am  now  on   Milton  Hill,     the  place  is 
pleasant.     I  could  enjoy  it  if  it  was  paid  for,  but 
you  know  I  hate  to  be  in  Debt.     I  struck  a  Bold 
277 


MERCY   WARREN 

Stroke  when  I  Bo't  it.  I  gave  a  great  Sum  for  it 
but  should  have  done  well  enough  if  there  had 
not  been  such  a  revolution  in  the  Currency  .  .  . 
but  I  will  struggle  to  keep  it,  it  is  too  sweet  a  place 
to  part  with,  wont  you  send  me  soon  handsome 
papers  for  two  Lodging  rooms  each  side  of  the  Hall 
&  for  two  Entries. 

During  the  winter  and  spring  before  the 
removal,  Mrs.  Warren  had  been  very  ill,  "hav- 
ing an  Immoderate  Humour  settled  in  her 
Eyes  which  .  .  .  deprived  her  of  the  pleasures 
of  reading  and  writing  for  several  months  & 
.  .  .  Impaired  her  Health  in  other  respects. " 
It  was  reasonable  to  hope  that  she  would 
benefit  from  the  change,  and  the  family  ex- 
pected a  summer  of  great  happiness  on  Xepon- 
set  Hill.  It  was  broken,  however,  by  the  ill- 
ness of  the  eldest  son.  James  Warren,  Jr., 
was  an  officer  on  board  the  Alliance  dur- 
ing her  foreign  cruise  in  company  with  the 
French  allies,  and  in  her  engagement  with  the 
Serapis,  1779,  he  was  wounded  in  the  right 
knee.  He  came  home  to  suffer  long  and 
grievously.  His  leg  was  amputated,  but  the 
shock  and  nervous  strain  had  told  upon  his 
constitution,  and  he  was  never  thereafter  the 
same  man. 

The  wearing  anxiety  connected  with  the 
failing  health  of  Mrs.  Warren's  family  had  now 

278 


ON  MILTON  HILL 

fairly  begun.  Her  son  Charles  had  for  some 
time  been  a  constant  sufferer,  and  it  was  not 
until  the  autumn  of  1782  that  he  pronounced 
himself  better,  saying  that  his  vigor  was  re- 
turning, and  that  comparative  comfort  did  not 
seem  then,  as  it  had  formerly,  only  a  lull 
between  paroxysms  of  pain.  But  this  was 
not  to  last.  As  we  have  seen,  life  became  for 
him  a  weary  pursuit  of  health,  only  to  be 
terminated  by  his  death  in  1785. 

But  at  Milton,  General  Warren,  freed  from 
the  more  active  cares  of  state,  was  beginning 
to  indulge  his  lifelong  dream  of  agriculture. 
That  had  never  left  him;  and  even  in  this,  his 
later  life,  he  expressed  a  wish  that  he  might 
go  abroad  to  study  the  state  of  the  science 
there.  They  had  been  three  years  at  Milton 
when  Mrs.  Warren  writes  Winslow :  "  Your 
good  father  is  Determined  to  Beautify  & 
Adorn  his  delightful  Villa."  She  adds  in  a 
postscript:  "The  Carpet  is  very  much  admired 
—  I  think  it  the  handsomest  of  the  kind  I  ever 
saw.  I  send  you  the  Dimensions  of  one  for 
the  Red  Room."  This  is  one  of  her  sparing 
allusions  to  the  goods  of  this  world,  more 
refreshing  than  bread-fruit  to  the  starving 
traveller. 

It  is  to  be  hoped  that  Winslow's  taste  was 
to  be  trusted,  for  he  seems  to  have  taken  with 

279 


MERCY   WARREN 

enthusiasm  to  the  filling  of  orders.  "I  have," 
he  writes,  "a  fine  Blue  Paper  with  an  Ele- 
gant Festoon  which  will  be  very  handsome  for 
yr  Hall." 

These  later  years  of  General  Warren's  life 
were  almost  devoid  of  public  cares  and  duties ; 
but  they  were  to  be  full  of  reminiscence  of 
a  praiseworthy  activity.  He  had  been  Com- 
missioner of  the  Navy  Board,  and  aiter  the 
Constitution  was  formed,  was  many  years 
Speaker  of  the  House  of  Representatives.  In 
1780,  he  was  elected  Lieutenant-Governor 
under  Hancock,  but  refused  to  serve;  and, 
indeed,  declined  other  important  offices.  At 
the  close  of  the  war  he  had  virtually  retired, 
although  he  did  accept  a  seat  at  the  Council 
Board,  and,  as  the  last  act  of  his  official  life, 
became  a  presidential  elector  and  threw  his 
vote  for  Jefferson.  But  leisure  had  come  at 
last. 

The  daily  life  in  the  midst  of  this  wealth  of 
beauty  was  full  of  moments  ministering  to 
peace ;  and  Mrs.  Warren,  when  her  eyes  would 
permit,  occupied  much  of  her  leisure  in  lit- 
erary work.  Yet,  according  to  the  habit  of 
humankind,  she  did  sometimes  cast  backward 
a  regretful  glance  at  the  turmoil  of  the  past. 
She  sighed  for  Plymouth,  where  she  had  been 
lonely  and  not  too  well  content.  In  an  undated 


ON  MILTON  HILL 

letter  from  Milton  she  refers  to  the  tranquil- 
lity of  her  days,  adding :  — 

"Yet  I  often  look  back  upon  Plimouth,  take  a 
walk  from  room  to  room,  peep  through  the  Lattices 
that  have  lighted  my  steps,  revisit  the  little  Alcove 
leading  to  the  Garden  and  place  myself  in  every 
happy  corner  of  a  house  where  I  have  tasted  so 
much  real  felicity.  —  I  climb  to  the  top  of  my 
favorite  Trees  and  from  their  lofty  summit  take  a 
view  of  the  water  prospect  which  exhibits  a  kind 
of  majestick  Grandeur  :  .  .  .  The  shady  walks,  the 
pleasant  Groves  that  adorn  this  little  Villa  are  ex- 
tremely pleasing,  and  when  the  Eye  is  wearied  with 
the  bolder  view  exhibited  from  the  Portico,  the  de- 
lightful landscape  from  the  parlour  windows  &  the 
warm  influences  &  beautiful  aspect  of  the  west- 
ern Sky  lead  me  to  give  a  temporary  preference  to 
Milton." 

But  slightly  to  anticipate  the  course  of  the 
years  is  to  find  that  the  Warrens  gave  up  the 
place,  after  a  ten  years'  residence,  and  went 
back  to  Plymouth.  They  were  probably  induced 
to  do  so  by  still  straitened  circumstances,  and 
possibly  by  the  course  of  Winslow's  life.  He 
was  living  abroad,  and  from  a  thread  of  sug- 
gestion running  through  his  mother's  let- 
ters, it  seems  evident  that  she  had  intended 
the  place  for  him ;  that  she  had  either  hoped 
he  would  at  some  time  come  back  and  make 

281 


MERCY  WARREN 

his  home  with  them,  or  that  he  would  begin 
there  a  new  life  for  himself.  But  he  showed 
no  sign  of  settling,  and  they  relinquished  care 
and  expense  by  withdrawing  to  their  old  "  habi- 
tation." The  place  was  sold  in  different  lots. 
Thereafter  it  passed  into  various  hands,  but  it 
seemed  always  to  atttract  to  itself  the  romantic 
and  unusual.  A  time  of  prodigal  living  had 
riot  there.  Madam  Haley,  the  sister  of  John 
Wilkes  and  widow  of  a  rich  London  merchant, 
had  come  to  America  to  look  after  her  hus- 
band's property.  Here  she  married  her  stew- 
ard, Patrick  Jeffrey.  Madam  Haley  was  an 
eccentric  character,  who  aimed  at  making  an 
impression  on  the  times.  She  lived  in  great 
magnificence.  When  Charlestown  bridge  was 
opened,  she  paid,  as  tradition  says,  five  hun- 
dred dollars  for  the  privilege  of  being  the  first 
to  drive  over  it,  and  headed  the  procession, 
drawn  by  four  white  horses.  The  story  goes 
that  a  countryman  once  called  at  her  Boston 
house,  and  having  been  accorded  the  privilege 
of  seeing  her,  owned  that  he  came  from  curi- 
osity, having  heard  so  much  about  her.  There- 
upon Madam  Haley  asked  what  he  might  have 
heard. 

"That  you  were  so  rich,"  he  returned  with 
admirable  bluntness,  "that  you  live  in  such 
style,  do  so  much  good,  and  are  so  homely." 

282 


ON  MILTON  HILL 

"Now  you  see  me,"  said  the  lady,  "what  do 
you  think  about  it  ?  " 

The  man  must  have  been  a  mirror  of  can- 
dor. Said  he:  "I  swear  I  believe  it's  all 
true ! " 

Finding  her  marriage  uncongenial,  the  lady 
returned  to  England,  and  Jeffrey  lived  a  gay 
life  in  the  Hutchinson  house.  He  was  in  pos- 
session of  all  the  furniture,  plate,  and  orna- 
ments which  had  belonged  to  the  first  husband 
when  alderman  and  mayor  of  London ;  and, 
with  a  retinue  of  servants  at  his  command,  he 
entertained  magnificently.  A  club  of  men 
dined  with  him  every  week;  and  after  the 
good  talk  and  good  wines,  the  guests  took 
their  leave  and  were  driven  to  the  front  door, 
where  they  sat  in  their  carriages,  while  the 
host,  bareheaded,  pledged  them  in  one  glass 
more.  After  his  death,  the  splendid  and 
curious  furnishings  of  the  house  were  sold  at 
auction,  and  Milton  held  a  three  days'  car- 
nival in  the  purchase  of  bric-a-brac. 

What  is  left  of  the  Hutchinson-Warren 
estate  is  to-day  a  goodly  spot.  Perhaps  no 
part  of  it  has  suffered  less  change  than  the 
fair  prospect  of  meadow,  river,  and  sea,  spread 
out  below  its  gates ;  yet  that,  too,  is  only  in 
a  measure  the  same,  for  Boston  has  grown 
beyond  belief,  and  looms  large  in  the  distance, 

2R3 


MERCY  WARREN 

and  many  inventions  of  an  increasing  popula- 
tion have  worked  their  will  upon  the  earth. 
But  the  marshy  meadows  are  untouched  in 
sweetness,  and  the  Neponset  winds  happily  to 
its  home.  The  harbor  lies  serenely  under  fleet- 
ing sails,  and  at  night,  as  if  for  beauty  only, 
the  lights  spring  out  and  glimmer  there.  The 
scene,  when  the  eye  first  rests  upon  it,  has  an 
instant  and  appealing  loveliness.  Whoever 
may  henceforth  own  the  estate  is  destined  al- 
ways to  possess  more  than  the  freehold  in  his 
name ;  he  feeds  daily  in  a  limitless  kingdom 
of  delight. 

The  place  itself  is  rich  in  suggestions  of  its 
former  honorable  days.  The  old  farmhouse 
lives  remodelled  into  modern  guise;  but  the 
ample  stables  are  almost  unaltered,  save  for 
sheathing  here  and  there,  a  new  partition,  or 
some  slight  detail  of  comfort.  Practically  they 
are  the  same  as  when  the  horses  of  a  cen- 
tury-old life  ate  their  grain  within  the  stalls 
and  pranced  forth  to  give  Mistress  Hutch- 
inson  or  Mercy  Warren  the  air.  The  beams 
of  the  roof  look  as  if  they  were  calculated 
to  "last  till  doomsday,"  and  thickly  stud- 
ding the  framework  are  valiant  hand-wrought 
nails. 

But  the  old  manor-house  is  gone,  pulled 
down  some  quarter-century  ago.  The  owner 

284 


ON  MILTON  HILL 

of  that  day,  from  whom  the  present  residents 
have  inherited  it,  coming  home  from  the  East 
and  desiring  to  build  him  "  more  stately  man- 
sions," had  the  roof  taken  off,  to  be  raised  a 
story;  and  at  that  fatal  stage  the  builder 
declared  that  it  was  attacked  by  dry-rot,  and 
could  not  be  returned. 

But  the  new  house  stands  on  the  same  spot, 
and  even  the  arrangement  of  its  lower  rooms 
is  relatively  the  same.  Within  those  modern 
walls  lie  abundant  relics  of  the  past.  Gov- 
ernor Hutchinson's  period  is  there  in  a  carven 
mirror  and  table;  Madam  Haley's,  in  a  sofa 
and  chairs.  But  the  one  fragrant  souvenir 
of  all  lies  without:  that  is  the  Governor's 
garden,  a  living  memory  of  old  days,  kept  as 
nearly  as  possible  as  it  was  when  he  left  it, 
and  as  it  lived  through  the  Warrens'  time. 
There  are  the  pleached  alleys,  two  of  them 
green -sodded,  and  one  covered  with  the  dese- 
crating gravel  of  a  later  use.  Straight  down 
from  the  house  they  lead,  the  middle  one 
through  the  lofty  colonnade  of  a  grape  arbor, 
thick  with  vines  and  jewelled  by  clinging 
fruit.  The  trees  scarcely  meet  over  the  alleys 
as  in  their  younger  days,  for  even  nature  fails 
with  time;  but  everywhere  still  is  there  a 
multitude  of  leaf,  and  the  protecting  symmetry 
of  branches,  —  the  soft,  blue-green  of  a  plumy 

285 


MERCY  WARREN 

pine,  the  ancient  chestnut  strewing  the  ground 
with  tassels,  and  the  shagbarks  to  which  the 
place  owes  now  its  name.  Everything  is  al- 
lowed, under  the  liberty  of  a  protecting  reign, 
to  follow  the  errant  will  of  its  nature.  The 
box  border  has  grown  into  a  hedge,  and  every 
old-fashioned  flower  that  blows  is  welcome  to 
set  foot  and  flourish  there.  In  spring  the  air 
is  sweet  with  narcissus  and  matted  lilies  of 
the  valley ;  in  autumn  it  flares  out  in  a  glory 
of  yellow.  There  are  columbines,  marigolds, 
flaunting  coreopsis,  and  hardy  English  fox- 
gloves. "Every  flower  that  sad  embroidery 
wears,"  and  all  the  gayer  ladies  of  the  border, 
have  agreed  to  make  their  bower  here.  It 
is,  in  New  England  eyes,  a  spot  almost  as 
moving  as  Shakespeare's  garden.  Below,  at 
the  end  of  the  alleys,  runs  transversely  the 
ha-ha,  or  sunk  fence;  and  beyond,  lying  de- 
liciously  below  the  eye,  is  the  wild  garden 
where  fragrance  and  color  riot  together  and 
drench  the  summer  air.  Still  farther  on,  at 
the  outermost  bounds  of  the  garden,  stand 
lofty  trees,  shutting  it  from  the  street  and 
keeping  the  noise  and  dust  of  the  bustling 
world  from  entering  that  green  shade. 

I  love  to  think  of  Governor  Hutchinson 
walking  in  stately  fashion  up  and  down  the 
paths,  giving  his  workmen  the  knowing  direc- 

286 


ON  MILTON  HILL 

tions  of  a  practical  farmer,  and  of  Madam  War- 
ren in  her  day,  with  jingling  keys  at  her  side, 
taking  a  turn  as  soon  as  the  dew  was  off  the 
grass,  picking  a  mulberry  from  the  tree  with 
dainty  fingers,  and  speculating  on  the  peas  for 
her  hearty  "  companion's  "  dinner.  Perhaps 
there  was  some  righteous  joy  in  plucking  the 
gooseberries  and  currants  set  out  by  the  recre- 
ant Governor.  But  no !  private  resentment 
must  have  lain  somewhat  in  abeyance,  for 
the  Governor  was  dead,  and  that  account  was 
closed.  Save  in  the  interest  of  what  seemed 
to  her  historical  accuracy,  she  would  think 
no  ill  of  him ;  and  treading  the  paths  he  had 
ordered,  one  can  fancy  how  she  would  repeat 
to  herself  the  substance  of  that  qualifying 
passage  in  her  History  whereby  she  vouchsafes 
his  hated  character  a  thin  regilding :  — 

"He  was  educated  in  reverential  ideas  of  mo- 
narchic government,  and  considered  himself  the  ser- 
vant of  a  king  who  had  entrusted  him  with  very 
high  authority.  As  a  true  disciple  of  passive  obe- 
dience, he  might  think  himself  bound  to  promote 
tbe  designs  of  his  master,  and  thus  he  might  prob- 
ably release  his  conscience  from  the  obligation 
to  aid  his  countrymen  in  their  opposition  to  the 
encroachments  of  the  crown.  In  the  eye  of  candor, 
he  may  therefore  be  much  more  excusable  than  any 
287 


MERCY  WARREN 

who  may  deviate  from  their  principles  and  profes- 
sions of  republicanism,  who  have  not  been  biassed 
by  the  patronage  of  kings,  nor  influenced  in  favor 
of  monarchy  by  their  early  prejudices  of  education 
or  employment." 


XIII 
TERMINUS 

BUT  it  was  time  "to  take  in  sail."  The 
days  had  come  when,  save  for  a  rare  grace 
and  courage,  these  two  aged  patriots  might 
have  said,  "There  is  'no  pleasure  in  them.'  " 
Mrs.  Warren  had  long  been  troubled  by 
the  baffling  "  humour  "  in  her  eyes,  and  all 
through  these  later  years  her  letters  are  in 
the  hand  of  an  amanuensis.  General  War- 
ren loves  his  fireside,  and  his  peaceful  drives 
to  Clifford,  where  Henry  and  his  wife  are 
living.  He  has  really  grown  old ;  and  some 
of  his  letters  written  at  this  period  of  re- 
tirement from  active  life  are  pathetic  indeed, 
for  they  are  by  a  hand  so  trembling  as  scarcely 
to  have  been  able  to  guide  the  pen.  His  sin- 
gularly affectionate  and  lovable  nature  blos- 
soms out,  during  the  leisure  of  these  later 
years,  when  the  cares  of  state  have  fallen 
away.  It  is  good  to  read  about  his  agricul- 
tural delights ;  to  catch  his  spirit  of  joy  in 
growing  things.  Nothing  is  too  small  for 


MERCY   WARREN 

him  to  chronicle.  He  writes  Henry,  June  5, 
1794,  of  a  visit  to  Clifford,  where  he  found 
the  farm  life  thriving.  There  are  all  the  old 
homely  items  beloved  from  year  to  year  by 
those  born  for  country  cares.  Polly,  the  wife, 
was  "  much  Engaged  in  her  dairy. "  He  would 
have  been  there  again  next  day  had  the 
weather  permitted.  And  he  continues  in  a 
whimsical  paragraph  on  the  moral  aspect  of 
the  time :  — 

"  I  have  begun  to  think  this  world  a  farce,  &  a 
Ludicrous  one  too.  Principles  are  talked  of  that 
never  operate  &  Pretensions  made  that  have  no 
Effect,  had  I  the  pen  of  Tacitus,  the  satirical 
genius  of  Churchill  or  the  descriptive  powers  of 
Anacharsis  I  would  make  an  effort.  I  would  at- 
tempt to  describe  the  present  Times  &  to  Compare 
them  with  1775.  I  would  Contrast  the  Energy 
virtue  &  wisdom  of  the  last  with  the  imbecility 
of  the  first,  but  alas!  the  subject  is  too  extensive 
the  Contrast  is  too  great,  the  Gulf  is  too  deep." 

Here,  too,  is  a  bit  from  an  old  man's  love- 
letter,  not  the  less  honeyed  for  dealing  in 
beef  and  bacon.  It  is  from  James  Warren  to 
Mercy,  who  was  visiting  in  Boston,  June  28, 
1790:- 

"...  Here  the  weather  is  fine  &  all  nature  in 
Bloom.     I  long  to  pluck  a  rose  &  gather  a  plate  of 
290 


TERMINUS 

strawberries  for  my  litle  angel  but  the  distance 
is  too  great.  I  must  be  content  to  hope  she  is 
happy  without  the  varigated  country  beauties  of  this 
very  fine  season  which  I  long  to  describe  but  dare 
not  attempt  till  you  send  me  your  poetick  mantle 
.  .  .  if  I  had  a  better  foot  I  should  have  had  a 
fine  ramble  but  that  is  more  than  I  Expect  this 
summer,  the  Gout  is  a  dreadful  thing  indeed  for 
a  Farmer.  I  wish  we  could  confine  it  to  the  lazy 
citizens.  Will  you  run  over  &  take  part  of  a  fine 
piece  of  Beef  &  Bacon  &  a  most  excellent  Line  of 
Veal  no  green  pease  but  potatoes,  sallad  &  horse 
radish,  if  we  had  peas  or  rubies  &  diamonds  we 
would  give  them  to  you.  we  have  strawberries  & 
cream  at  your  service.  .  .  .  adieu,  for  why  should 
I  attempt  to  express  the  full  of  my  affection  for 
you." 

Again  he  writes  to  Henry,  January  9, 
1799:  — 

"  .  .  .1  did  hope  my  short  span  of  Life  would 
enable  me  to  see  the  downfall  of  Kings  &  Con- 
querors till  none  remained  to  curse  mankind  with 
their  ambition,  avarice  &  destruction.  The  French 
seem  to  me  to  be  marked  out  by  Providence  to 
effect  it.  I  have  therefore  wished  them  success. 
They  committed  an  Error  in  the  Egyptian  Expe- 
dition. Buonaparte  if  in  Europe  would  soon  pros- 
trate Austrian,  Eussian  &  Turkish  Tyranny,  but 
Providence  don't  want  means  to  form  another  Buo- 
naparte &  I  presume  will  do  it." 

291 


MERCY  WARREN 

One  of  his  letters  to  Henry  deserves  quoting, 
if  only  from  its  delightful  play  of  humor.  A 
son  has  been  born  to  the  household :  — 

PLYM?  Jan  22,  1795. 

DEAR,  HENRY,  —  I  told  you  in  my  last  that  your 
son  was  a  very  pretty  fellow  &  I  told  you  right 
they  say  who  have  seen  him  which  I  have  not  yet 
done,  hut  he  has  come  among  us  with  ominous 
presages.  The  Elements  have  been  in  an  uproar 
from  the  day  of  his  birth  to  this  Moment.  Storms 
Tempests  hurricanes  Snows  frosts  Shipwrecks  &c 
have  filled  \ip  the  whole  space  of  his  Existence 
and  while  you  at  Boston  would  suppose  your 
Mamah  making  visits  at  Clifford  our  roads  there 
have  been  impassible  but  to  foot  travellers  &  with 
difficulty  to  a  Horse  &  there  is  yet  no  approaching 
his  Illustrious  Majesty  but  through  a  storm  of 
rain  over  head  &  snow  banks  underfoot,  is  it  not 
natural  to  Enquire  what  all  this  indicates  &  to 
apprehend  that  if  at  this  time  of  day  he  makes 
such  a  racket  in  the  physical  world  he  may  when 
he  arrives  at  the  size  &  magnitude  of  his  Papah 
disturb  the  moral  &  political  world  ?  become  an 
Enthusiast  in  religion  or  an  aristocrat  in  politics : 
in  short  the  auspices  denounce  him  as  a  turbulent 
&  dangerous  fellow.  What  then  shall  be  done 
with  him?  Shall  we  abandon  him  or  heave  him 
into  the  river.  Many  Nations  of  antiquity  would 
choose  the  first  and  some  Moderns  the  last,  you 
must  choose  for  yourself. 


TERMINUS. 

The  close  of  the  Revolution  was  not  for 
America  the  end  of  a  drama,  after  which,  the 
curtain  having  fallen  on  a  grand  finale,  the 
audience  might  go  home  to  sleep.  She  had 
to  struggle  with  new  questions,  none  the  less 
harassing  than  those  which  had  been  defi- 
nitely solved ;  she  had  to  formulate  her  course. 
Mercy  Warren  writes :  — 

"Thus,  after  the  conclusion  of  peace,  and  the 
acknowledgment  of  the  independence  of  the  United 
States  by  Great  Britain,  the  situation  of  America 
appeared  similar  to  that  of  a  young  heir,  who  had 
prematurely  become  possessed  of  a  rich  inheritance, 
while  his  inexperience  and  his  new  felt  inde- 
pendence had  intoxicated  him  so  far,  as  to  render 
him  incapable  of  weighing  the  intrinsic  value  of 
his  estate,  and  had  left  him  without  discretion  or 
judgment  to  improve  it  to  the  best  advantage  of 
his  family." 

Problems  confronted  the  new  republic  on 
every  side.  A  large  army  was  to  be  disbanded 
and  turned  loose  upon  the  country ;  the  treas- 
ury was  depleted,  real  estate  had  depreciated, 
and  the  formation  of  the  Constitution  divided 
friends  and  families.  Moreover,  the  patriot 
who  had  risked  all  for  his  country  was  quite 
likely  to  find  in  the  altered  hue  of  affairs 
something  which  seemed  to  him  vastly  like 
ingratitude  on  the  part  of  those  for  whom  he 

293 


MERCY  WARREN 

had  toiled.  James  and  Mercy  Warren  were 
among  those  who  felt  that  blow  in  all  its 
heaviness.  They  were  locally  very  much 
alone  in  their  position  of  anti-Federalism, 
and  their  neighbors  at  Plymouth  gave  them 
the  cold  shoulder.  This  rouses  Mrs.  Warren 
to  an  outspoken  bitterness  of  feeling.  All 
the  ills  of  her  own  life  she  might  be  able  to 
bear;  but  when  injustice  touches  the  man  on 
whom  she  bestows  an  increasing  affection,  and 
who,  she  is  persuaded,  has  helped  America  to 
a  dearly  bought  peace,  she  speaks  hotly  and 
to  the  point.  In  November,  1792,  she  writes 
her  son  James,  then  at  Hingham :  — 

"When  you  feel  a  little  vexed  that  your  father 
has  lost  his  popularity  —  remember  that  he  retains 
his  integrity,  that  neither  his  public  or  private 
virtue  has  ever  been  shaken  nor  does  malice  itself 
impeach  his  probity.  His  political  opinions  have 
differed  from  the  intriguing  and  the  fortunate,  and 
he  has  had  too  much  sincerity  to  conceal  them  — 
for  this  he  has  suffered  —  these  are  the  sour  grapes 
for  which  the  Children's  teeth  have  been  set  on 
edge." 

She  has  learned  to  expect  nothing  from 
the  recognition  of  a  nation.  In  1785,  John 
Adams  had  written  her  at  Milton,  "When 
shall  I  again  see  my  friend  Warren  in  public 

294 


TERMINUS 

life  ?  "  And  she  had  responded  with  some  bit- 
terness, "  1  answer  when  republics  are  famed 
for  their  gratitude  —  and  the  multitude  learn 
to  discriminate." 

These  were  the  days  of  her  almost  nervous 

fear  lest  America  might  sigh  for  monarchy. 

January  4,  1787,  she  had  written  her  husband 

from  Milton,  discussing  the  state  of  a  nation 

/""  Emancipated  from  a  foreign  yoke  the  Bless- 

(    ings  of  peace  restored  on  the  most  Honorable 

ft  terms,  with  the  liberty  of  framing  our  own 

^  Laws,  Choosing  our  own  Magistrates  &  adopt- 

/ing  Manners  the  most  favorable  to  Freedom 

/  and  Happiness.     I  am  sorry  to  say  there  is 

(      too  much  reason  to  fear  we  have  not  Virtue 

\j3ufficient  to  avail  ourselves  of  those  superior 

advantages.  "     She  goes  on  :  — 

"The  Glorious  Fabrick  which  you  and  your 
compeers  with  so  much  labour  &  assiduity  success- 
fully Reared  may  totter  to  the  foundation  before 
the  civil  feuds  are  Hushed  that  have  justly  atlarmed 
the  Continent  &  the  Massachusets  in  particular.  — 
lately  armed  for  an  opposition  to  Rp.ga.1 


Jherejeems  to  be  a  boldness  of  spirit  on  the  OTIP.  . 
side  that  sets  at  Defiance  all  authority  Government^ 
ef-orcter:  And  on  the  other  not  a  secret  Wish~ 
o~nly  but  an  open  avowal  of  the  Necessity  of  draw- 
ing the  reins  of  Power  much  too  taught  for  Repub- 
licanisrn.  if  not  for  a  Wise  &  limited  Monarchy.  — 
295 


MERCY  WARREN 

The  Cause  of  the  late  Commotions  may  be  easily 
investigated  but  the  Consequences  must  be  left 
to  the  hand  of  time.  Where  abouts  the  political 
ship  will  Land  it  is  not  easy  to  say  though  I 
think  the  Rioters  in  the  Western  Counties  will 
soon  be  quelled.  But  some  think  the  Cincinnati 
who  are  waiting  a  favorable  tide  to  waft  them  on 
to  the  strong  fortress  of  Nobility  are  manifestly 
elated  by  the  present  prospects,  others  are  flatter- 
ing themselves  that  our  Aristocratic  power  is  fast 
forming.  While  many  of  the  younger  Class  par- 
ticularly the  students  at  Law  and  the  youth  of 
fortune  &  pleasure  are  crying  out  for  a  Monarchy 
&  a  standing  army  to  support  it  —  yet  perhaps  a 
termination  more  favorable  to  the  system  of  the 
Genuine  Patriot  than  has  been  apprehended  may 
still  take  place." 

In  1787,  she  writes  Mrs.  Macaulay  in  the 
same  very  evident  distress.  The  Cincinnati 
especially  inspires  her,  as  it  did  from  the 
beginning,  with  a  vivid  alarm:  — 

"  These  joined  by  the  whole  class  of  Cincinnati 
who  are  panting  for  nobility;  and  with  the  eagle 
dangling  at  their  breast,  assume  distinctions  that 
are  yet  new  in  this  Country  —  these  parties  make 
a  formidable  body  ready  to  bow  to  the  sceptre  of 
a  king,  provided  they  may  be  the  lordlings  who 
in  splendid  idleness  may  riot  on  the  hard  earnings 
of  the  peasant  and  the  mechanic :  —  These  plead 
the  necessity  of  a  standing  army  to  suppress  the 
296 


TERMINUS 

murmurs  of  a  few  who  yet  cherish  that  spirit  of 
freedom  which  only  calls  forth  the  exertions  and 
leads  to  the  best  improvement  of  the  human 
mind." 

Mrs.  Warren  was  ever  an  excellent  repub- 
lican. True  worth  had,  in  her  mind,  no 
relation  to  rank  or  station.  In  1774,  a  time 
when  she  could  write  that,  in  twenty  years 
of  housekeeping,  death  had  not  entered  her 
family,  an  old  servant,  who  had  been  with  her 
for  at  least  nineteen  years,  was  taken  ill  and 
died.  Mrs.  Warren  attended  her  so  faithfully 
that  her  correspondence  had  to  be  neglected ; 
and  her  sorrow  over  the  woman's  death  was 
very  keen.  This  is  her  observation  on  the 
event : — 

"Unimportant  as  one  in  that  station  appears 
yet  when  they  have  acquitted  themselves  faith- 
fully and  fulfilled  the  duties  of  life  the  distinction 
between  the  master  and  the  servant,  the  prince 
and  the  peasant  may  be  in  favour  of  the  latter." 

In  1789,  she  writes :  — 

"It  is  true  we  have  now  a  government  organized, 
and  a  Washington  at  its  head;  —  but  we  are  too 
poor  for  Monarchy  —  too  wise  for  Despotism,  and 
too  dissipated  selfish  and  extravagant  for  Republi- 
canism. —  It  ill  becomes  an  infant  government 
I  whose  foreign  and  domestic  arrearages  are  large, 


MERCY  WARREN 

and  whose  resources  are  small,  to  begin  its  career 
in  the  splendour  of  Royalty :  to  shackle  its  Com- 
merce, to  Check  its  manufactures,  to  damp  the 
spirit  of  agriculture  by  imposts  and  excises,  and 
in  short  to  deprive  the  people  of  the  means  of  sub- 
sistence, to  amass  sums  for  the  payment  of  exorbi- 
tant salaries,  to  support  the  regalia  of  office  and 
to  keep  up  the  ostentatious  pomp  for  which  the 
ambitious  have  sighed  and  desired  from  the  mo- 
ment of  the  institution  of  Cincinnati." 

To  recur  to  Mrs.  Warren's  literary  life  is  to 
find  a  strangely  familiar  ring  in  one  circum- 
stance belonging  to  the  year  1791.  Evidently 
American  publishers  even  then  not  only  sailed 
under  the  black  flag  of  piracy,  but  cheerfully 
elected  to  do  so.  She  had  received  from  Mrs. 
Macaulay  Graham  a  pamphlet  written  by  that 
lady,  and  which,  so  Mrs.  Warren  says,  was 
composed  of  "ingenious  and  just  observations 
on  Mr.  Burke's  strictures  on  the  National  As- 
sembly of  France."  It  seemed  to  be  entirely 
unknown  in  Boston,  and  General  Warren  pro- 
posed to  Andrews,  the  printer,  that  he  should 
republish  it.  And  thus  Mrs.  Warren  writes 
the  "  celebrated  "  author :  — 

t(  Profit  is  not  yet  a  stimulus  with  American 
authors.  The  printer  was  rather  unwilling  to 
undertake  the  republication  lest  it  might  not  sell 
in  our  degenerate  day,  but  on  assuring  him  the 


TERMINUS 

risque  was  small,  that  the  profit  if  any  should  be 
solely  his,  and  only  the  honour  yours,  he  agreed 
to  strike  off  a  number  of  copies." 

Thus  early  was  the  division  of  profit  and 
honor  in  the  case  of  an  author  who  could 
make  no  legal  claim  upon  us. 

There  is  something  lovely  in  the  picture  of 
General  Warren  and  his  wife,  now  old  people, 
at  their  fireside,  still  eager  over  the  intel- 
lectual life,  and  looking  forward  to  the  life 
immortal.  Their  affection  never  failed.  Each 
is  to  the  other  still  the  most  desirable  of 
humankind,  and  the  General  has  not  ceased  to 
be  guardian  and  lover,  as  well  as  friend. 
Sally  Sever  is  one  of  the  younger  generation 
of  whom  Mrs.  Warren  is  especially  fond;  and 
this  little  confidence  was  written  to  her:  — 

"Alas!  it  is  late  in  the  evening  and  candlelight 
very  unfriendly  to  weakened  eyes,  yet  mine  are  not 
so  impaired  as  to  forbid  the  attempt.  But  you 
know  the  kindness  of  my  good  Mr.  Warren  —  '  My 
dear  it  is  bedtime  —  you  will  be  sick  in  this  way 
—  you  must  not  write  so  'much  in  the  evening  — 
I  cannot  spare  those  eyes,'  &c  &c  &c." 

In  1797,  the  aged  couple  (Mrs.  Warren  now 
nearing  her  terminal  threescore  and  ten,  and 
her  husband  having  passed  it)  take  a  little 

299 


MERCY  WARREN 

trip  together,  and  her  ever-youthful  spirit 
rises  in  response  to  the  stimulus  from  with- 
out. Not  much  younger  than  her  husband  in 
years,  she  is  infinitely  so  in  feeling.  She  de- 
scribes the  journey  in  writing  her  son  George, 
then  in  Maine,  and  dwells  movingly  upon  the 
renewal  of  old  associations  in  the  home  of  her 
youth :  — 

"He  thought  it  a  mighty  business  for  us  old 
folks  [she  adds,  in  spirited  allusion  to  General 
James],  but  it  was  a  pleasant  little  jaunt :  —  we 
both  enjoyed  it  and  are  the  better  for  the  exertion. 
If  he  could  view  these  things  just  as  I  do,  I  think 
he  would  soon  be  with  you." 

If  everybody  had  viewed  things  just  as  Mrs. 
Warren  did,  throughout  her  entire  life,  the 
cause  of  moral  empire  would  have  moved 
faster. 

Her  affection  for  the  young  was  genuine, 
tinged  with  no  patronage,  but  animated  rather 
by  a  generous  respect.  She  seems  always  to 
have  been  touched  by  any  expression  of  their 
admiration  and  love  for  her,  and  to  feel  that 
it  must  be  a  good  sign  when  age  could  com- 
mend itself  to  youth.  Mercy  Warren  had 
determined  to  have  no  shackles  upon  her 
mind  and  spirit.  She  would  grow  while  life 
was  left  her;  she  would  keep  in  touch  with 

300 


TERMINUS 

the  new  generation  to  the  very  end.  In  one  of 
her  moral  disquisitions,  after  enlarging  upon 
the  duties  of  the  young,  she  continues :  — 

"At  the  same  time  the  aged  who  have  experi- 
enced the  afflictions,  the  disappointments  of  the 
world,  who  have  seen  the  ingratitude,  the  haseness, 
the  versatility  of  human  conduct,  should  he  care- 
ful that  his  own  mind  does  not  hecome  so  soured 
by  defeated  expectations  as  to  behold  everything 
through  the  gloomy  medium  of  discontent — he 
should  be  watchful  that  he  indulge  no  morose  feel- 
ing towards  the  new  generations  that  arise :  —  let 
him  cherish  with  Candour  &  good  humor  every 
spark  of  worth  in  those  younger  than  himself  in 
knowledge  &  experience  instead  of  denying  any 
excellence  that  may  appear  in  a  different  garb  from 
that  to  which  he  may  have  been  accustomed.  It  is 
discouraging  to  the  exertions  of  virtue  &  disgusting 
to  the  feelings  of  the  heart  when  age  will  not  allow 
merit  in  younger  life  because  not  exactly  squared 
to  the  standard  of  his  happier  days.  The  sum  of 
virtue  may  remain  nearly  equal  among  the  genera- 
tions of  men  in  spite  of  external  habiliments  & 
fluctuating  opinions  —  Yet  political  &  evil  insti- 
tutions &  the  commotions  that  frequently  result 
therefrom,  may  at  different  periods  be  more  or  lass 
favorable  to  improvements  both  in  knowledge  & 
morals.  But  under  no  form  of  government,  changes 
of  time  or  caprice  of  fashion,  can  the  individual 
be  released  from  the  obligations  above-mentioned. 
301 


MERCY  WARREN 

This  mutual  exertion  to  contribute  to  the  happiness 
of  others  would  pare  down  the  reluctance  &  take  off 
the  restraint  so  often  observed  in  the  interviews 
between  the  young  &  the  old —  improve  the  under- 
standing on  one  side,  increase  the  Cheerfulness 
of  the  other  and  strengthen  the  benign  virtues  of 
both." 

To  one  who  has  traced  this  woman's  life, 
there  must  be  something  singularly  pathetic 
in  the  change  which  came  over  it  with  age. 
You  begin  by  admiring  her  intellectual  gifts 
and  her  force  of  character;  finally  it  is  her 
gentleness  by  which  you  are  chiefly  impressed. 
She  has  always  been  strong  in  affection,  but 
toward  the  end  it  has  become  a  yearning 
devotion  which  was  once  quite  foreign  to 
her.  Life,  to  a  less  vivacious,  less  persistently 
cheerful  temperament  might  now  have  seemed 
hopelessly  circumscribed.  She  had  a  great 
deal  of  time  to  think;  and  in  one  of  those 
moments  devoted  to  letter-writing  appears  a 
spice  of  her  old  satirical  habit.  It  was  still 
left  her  in  age.  The  letter,  written  Decem- 
ber 22,  1792,  is  addressed  to  her  brother, 
Samuel  Allyne  Otis,  and  it  contains  this  sly 
little  paragraph :  — 

"The  gentlemen  of  this  and  the  neighbouring 
towns  had  an  elegant  entertainment  in  public,  at 
and  are  now  regaling  themselves  at  the  old 


TERM:* 

Colony  hall  by  invitation  from  the  Club,  while 
their  dames  are  left  alone  both  afleiaoua  £  even- 
ing to  reflect  OB  the  difference  between  modern 
manners  and  the  rigid  virtues  of  their  amjfjUma,  «r 
any  other  subject  that  solitude  may  smggtsL** 

She  begs  her  friends  to  write  to  her,  to  visit 
her.  On  December  287  1807,  she  writes  Mrs. 
Adams :  — 

"  The  great  debility  which  has  long  afflicted  my 
eyes  has  &  still  deprives  me  of  the  use  of  my  own 
pen,  nor  is  it  easv  to  express  the  effusions  of  friend- 
ship, or  the  sensibilities  we  feel  on  any  other  occa- 
sion, when  we  borrow  that  of  another.  This  with 
the  death  of  very  many  of  my  best  tminpoaiirati 
has  almost  broken  off  the  habit  of  Letter-writing 
in  which  I  once  so  much  delighted: 

'•  Should  I  ask  }£r  Adams  what  he  thinks  the 
Emperor  Xapoleon  was  made  for  ?  I  presume  he 
would  not  tell  me.* 

That  is  a  question  of  unfailing  interest. 
The  retired  patriots  were  never  tired  of  toss- 
ing it  back  and  forth.  They  seem  to  have 
agreed  excellently  that  Bonaparte  had  some 
use  in  nature,  chiefly  as  a  lash  for  the  flagel- 
lation of  Europe.  Here  is  the  calm  and  philo- 
sophic opinion  of  Dr.  Freeman,  written  to 
Mrs.  Warren :  — 

•  •  The  events  which  have  taken  place  in  Europe 
during  several  past  years  have  been  of  so  painful  a 


MERCY   WARREN 

nature,  that  for  some  time  I  have  turned  from  them 
with  disgust,  &  have  forborne  to  look  at  them.  I 
now  seldom  read  a  newspaper;  and  am  therefore 
but  ill  qualified  to  give  an  opinion  on  publick 
affairs.  In  general,  however,  I  have  no  doubt  that 
the  government  of  the  universe  is  in  wise  hands; 
that  what  I  contemplate  with  pain,  as  well  as  what 
I  contemplate  with  pleasure,  are  necessary  to  the 
good  of  the  whole;  and  that  heroes,  murderers, 
hypocrites,  &  usurpers,  and  Napoleon  among  the 
rest,  like  earthquakes,  volcanoes,  and  pestilences, 
are  essential  parts  of  the  system  of  divine  provi- 
dence. When  I  read  the  past  events  of  history, 
where  I  can  see  both  the  beginning  &  end,  this 
truth  forces  itself  on  my  mind;  and  I  cannot  but 
believe  that  Nebuchadnezzar,  &  Alexander,  Caesar, 
&  Charlemagne  were  raised  up  by  God  to  effect 
the  purposes  of  his  wisdom  and  goodness.  Amidst 
the  passing  events  the  heart  is  afflicted  &  bewil- 
dered with  the  rapid  succession  of  crimes  and  mis- 
eries; but  judging  from  analogy,  I  believe  that 
when  the  whole  transaction  is  completed,  posterity 
will  be  able  to  discover  that  it  was  right;  &  that 
Bonaparte  was  as  useful  an  instrument  in  the 
hands  of  the  Supreme  Being,  as  any  of  the  conquer- 
ors and  tyrants  who  preceded  him.  What  are  the 
particular  purposes  which  are  intended  to  be 
effected  by  this  extraordinary  man,  &  whether  he 
is  especially  destined  to  restore  the  Jews  to  their 
own  country,  it  is  impossible  to  conjecture.  The 
prophecies,  I  believe,  afford  no  light  to  assist  our 


TERMINUS 

conjectures;   because,   in   my  opinion,  they  never 
become  intelligible  until  they  are  fulfilled." 

Mrs.  Warren  seems  to  have  agreed  with 
him.  Napoleon  was  the  instrument  of  God, 
no  less  divinely  meant  in  that  he  was  appar- 
ently evil. 

A  letter  written  to  Mrs.  Adams,  in  the 
summer  of  1807,  touches  on  the  same  ques- 
tion, and  ends  with  a  solemn  note  of  reminis- 
cence, as  that  of  one  who  sits  by  a  dying  fire, 
and  hears  the  lonesome  wind  without.  Here 
she  prophesies  that  Napoleon  may  be  allowed 
to  go  on  "to  be  the  scourge  of  kings  and  of 
nations,"  and  she  adds:  "I  sometimes  amuse 
myself  with  the  fanciful  idea  of  listening  to 
a  long  political  conversation  between  the  two 
venerable  sages,  your  husband  and  mine :  — 
but  it  seems  to  me  to  resemble  the  fabulous 
dialogues  of  the  dead." 

"Death,"  she  says  solemnly,  when  his  pres- 
ence touches  her  more  nearly,  "death  is  a 
familiar  word." 

But  she  was  not  the  slave  or  even  the  inti- 
mate of  discontent.  "I  still  possess  all  the 
necessaries,  most  of  the  conveniences,  &  some 
of  the  Luxuries  of  life,"  she  wrote.  "I  have 
an  elegant  habitation,  a  good  fire,  plenty  of 
provisions,  a  healthy  family,  and  a  thankful 
heart.  Yet  — 

20  305 


MERCY  WARREN 

" '  Do  not  Friendship's  joys  outweigh  the  whole? 
Tis  social  converse  animates  the  soul.' " 

One  spiritual  grace  possessed  in  great  meas- 
ure by  these  stern-fibred  men  and  women  was 
a  serenity  of  faith  in  "final  good."  For  them 
there  was  no  whining  of  pessimism.  They 
had  mounted  far  enough,  not  to  lose  sight  of 
the  clouds,  but  to  know  they  lay  below.  In 
the  very  last  year  of  Mrs.  Warren's  life  John 
Adams  wrote  her  in  a  strain  which  she  could 
have  echoed :  — 

il  A  gloomy  philosophy,  or  a  more  melancholy 
religion,  disposes  men  to  misery  and  despair;  but 
a  more  cheering  confidence  in  the  wisdom  and 
benevolence  that  governs  the  universe  ought  to 
dispose  us,  not  only  to  submit,  but  to  make  the 
best  of  every  thing. 

"  I  can  neither  applaud  nor  approve  of  the  lamen- 
tations over  'Few  and  evil  days,'  'Days  in  which 
ihere  is  no  pleasure,'  'Vale  of  tears,'  'Miseries  of 
life,'  &c.  I  have  seen  no  such  days,  and  those 
\vbo  think  they  have,  I  fear  have  made  them  such 
by  want  of  reflection." 

But  in  1808  came  the  greatest  affliction 
which  Mrs.  Warren  could  possibly  feel,  — the 
death  of  her  husband.  To  the  last  he  was 
tranquil  and  resigned,  proving  himself  no  less 
capable  of  estimating  his  own  life  than  events 
which  were  external  to  him.  He  had  done 


TERMINUS 

his  duty  simply  and  manfully;  he  had  finished 
his  course.  There  is  much  dignified  nobility 
in  what  he  said,  a  few  days  before  his  death, 
to  a  friend  who  encouraged  him  with  the 
thought  of  recovery :  — 

"  I  do  not  expect  ever  to  recover  more  health. 
The  season  of  the  year  is  against  it;  my  age  is 
against  it.  I  have  had  a  long  life,  and  have  en- 
joyed a  thousand  blessings.  I  have  uniformly 
endeavored  to  do  my  duty;  I  think  I  have  gener- 
ally done  it,  and  wherein  I  have  erred,  I  shall  be 
forgiven.  If  deatb  should  make  its  approach  this 
day,  I  should  not  be  alarmed." 

Mrs.  Warren's  very  silence  is  thereafter  sug- 
gestive. She  still  writes  her  friends,  though 
by  an  amanuensis ;  but  there  is  no  very  tragic 
outbreak  over  this  one  worst  affliction  of  all. 
It  was  too  great  for  tears.  Moreover,  time,  so 
far  as  she  herself  was  concerned,  must  have 
begun  to  seem  to  her  a  gift  likely  to  fall  from 
the  hand  at  any  moment.  The  letters  belong- 
ing to  the  last  years  of  her  life  are  very  sweet, 
very  loving,  full  of  peace  and  anticipation; 
yes,  full  even  of  the  old  courage :  — 

"  We  are  hourly  expecting  the  depredations 
of  the  British,"  she  writes,  June  30,  1814. 
"  I  would  not  have  you  think  me  alarmed  by 
womanish  fears  or  the  weakness  of  old  age. 

307 


MERCY   WARREN 

I  am  not.  I  sit  very  tranquilly  in  my  elbow 
chair  —  patiently  awaiting  the  destination  of 
providence  with  regard  to  myself,  my  family, 
my  friends  &  my  Country." 

"I  think  I  do  not  murmur,"  she  writes, 
not  long  after.  "I  see  the  light  of  the  Sun 
...  I  have  recollection  —  I  have  hope. " 

In  the  same  year  came  the  death  of  her 
brother,  Samuel  Allyne  Otis,  a  blow  severe 
enough  to  render  her  tremulous. 

"As  to  myself,"  she  writes,  "I  feel  daily 
bending  down  to  the  tomb  under  a  weight  of 
years  and  infirmities,  —  yet  considering  my 
age  am  remarkably  well.  .  .  .  The  recollec- 
tion of  a  visit  made  me  a  short  time  before  he 
went  on  to  Washington  has  been  &  will  be  a 
source  of  comfort  to  me.  Yet  I  recollect  his 
going  backward  to  the  door,  getting  into  the 
carriage,  &  fixing  his  eyes  upon  his  Sister  as 
she  stood  at  the  window  looking  at  his  intelli- 
gent Countenance  where  she  thought  she  read 
in  every  feature  that  he  never  expected  to 
behold  her  faded  countenance  again  in  this 
world." 

Again  she  writes  her  sister-in-law,  Mrs. 
Otis,  in  August  of  the  same  year :  — 

"Pray  for  me  that  I  may  follow  your  example 
though  late  but  not  insensible  that  this  ought  to 
have  been  done  in  the  daya  of  my  affliction  when 


TERMINUS 

my  younger  friends  had  a  right  to  look  up  to  me 
to  exemplify  by  my  own  conduct  what  I  so  much 
applaud:  perfect  resignation  and  fortitude  under 
the  severest  trials  of  a  transient  life. 

"  .  .  .  Do  let  me  hear  from  you  soon  &  often.  — 
I  frequently  feel  as  if  I  loved  my  friends  if  possible 
better  than  ever.  —  Is  it  because  I  am  about  to 
leave  them,  or  is  it  because  the  circle  is  so  circum- 
scribed that  when  I  retrospect  the  rich  treasures  of 
social  life  which  I  once  enjoyed,  I  only  find  one, 
two,  three  or  four,  and  then  look  into  another  state 
of  existence  where  our  excellent  departed  friends 
are  gathered." 

She  kept  her  mind  and  memory  to  the  last ; 
and  by  some  happy  chance  many  of  her  rela- 
tives were  with  her  during  the  concluding 
weeks  of  her  life.  It  was  a  renewal  of  the 
bonds  of  blood  and  friendship. 

"It  seems  to  me,"  she  said,  "as  if  my 
friends  were  clustering  round  me  for  the  last 
time." 

Her  illness  was  short,  and  one  of  her  last 
messages  went  to  the  dearest  friend  of  all :  — 

"Tell  my  dear  Mrs.  Adams  to  pass  two 
hours  with  me,"  she  said  to  Dr.  Freeman. 
"If  that  be  not  possible,  to  write  one  more 
letter  to  her  friend  whom  she  will  soon  meet 
in  heaven. " 

She  died  on  the  morning  of  Oct.  19,  1814. 

309 


MERCY  WARREN 

"Saturday  &  Sunday,"  wrote  James,  "her 
pain  was  agonizing  and  distressing  —  to  my 
astonishment  on  Monday  Morning  she  got  up 
from  her  bed  to  her  breakfast  table  —  but  it 
was  a  momentary  effort  —  she  in  a  few  minutes 
returned  to  her  bed  from  which  she  never 
again  rose.  On  Tuesday  she  seemed  more 
comfortable.  At  eleven  o'clock  of  that  even- 
ing we  went  to  bed  without  any  immediate 
apprehension."  At  two  o'clock  he  was  called 
into  her  room;  but  before  he  could  reach  her 
she  had  died. 

This  wa's  the  good  son  who  declared  in  the 
first  freshness  of  grief  over  her  death,  that  the 
last  fifteen  years  of  his  life  had  been  "  devoted 
to  the  every  wish  of  my  dear  mother.  But," 
he  adds,  "  I  have  not  done  enough. " 

Mrs.  Warren  was  buried  in  the  family  tomb 
at  Plymouth,  as  were  all  her  immediate  family 
who  died  at  home.  There  she  lies  on  Burial 
Hill,  close  by  the  church  where  she  sat  under 
the  preaching  of  Chandler  Bobbins  and  Dr. 
Kendall.  Plymouth  is  not  rich  in  memories 
of  her.  She  seems,  save  in  her  unconscious 
influence  from  the  "  choir  invisible, "  to  have 
slipped  quite  away  into  the  unseen.  Her 
great-granddaughter  has  a  few  pieces  of  her 
china,  a  screen,  and  some  beautiful  silver 
candlesticks,  her  lace,  two  hair  bracelets  made 

310 


TERMINUS 

to  fit  a  very  slender  wrist,  and  best  of  all  the 
historic  card-table, —  inherited  through  the 
little  granddaughter  Marcia,  for  whom  the 
Alphabetical  Maxims  were  evolved.  The 
card-table  is  not  only  a  curious  relic,  but 
is  possessed  of  a  quaintness  and  beautj^  indi- 
cating a  delicate  artistic  sense  in  the  woman 
who  designed  its  decoration.  It  is  of  a  goodly 
size  (wrought  out  of  solid  mahogany)  and  was 
intended  for  the  game  of  loo.  The  lifted  leaf 
discloses  a  top  of  canvas,  worked  in  worsted 
and  silk  stitches  fine  as  tapestry,  according  to 
a  truly  unique  and  charming  design  of  flowers. 
And  Mrs.  Warren  was  indebted  to  no  con- 
ventional hand  for  her  pattern ;  she  gathered 
the  flowers  from  her  garden,  pressed  them, 
and  copied  them  with  her  needle.  They  are 
all  effective,  and  some  of  them  very  true  to 
nature.  Her  ground  is  in  two  colors,  green 
and  brown.  A  gorgeous  bouquet  lies  in  the 
middle  of  the  canvas,  and  an  encircling 
garland  about  the  edge.  Between  the  two, 
thrown  carelessly  on  the  green  foundation, 
are  several  cards,  wrought  with  admirable 
exactness,  and  the  similitude,  in  the  form  of 
disks  and  fishes,  of  counters  once  in  the  posses- 
sion of  the  family.  The  whole  is  a  triumph 
of  patience  and  artistic  skill ;  and  if  many  of 
those  careful  stitches  were  set  by  candlelight, 


MERCY  WARREN 

there  was  more  than  poetic  justice  In  the 
"humour"  which  attacked  my  lady's  eyes. 
These,  with  an  extraordinarily  fine  silver  tea- 
kettle at  Dedham,  are  the  authentic  personal 
belongings  of  Mercy  Otis  Warren. 

The  living  representatives  of  her  line  trace 
their  descent  through  her  son  Henry.  None 
of  the  other  sons  married,  and  of  the  two 
who  survived  her,  James  (who  became  post- 
master in  Plymouth)  died  in  1821,  and  Henry 
in  1828. 

It  is  not  easy  to  compute  the  influence  of 
Mercy  Otis  Warren.  By  no  public  word  of 
hers,  no  definite  deed  to  be  traced  to  her 
hand  or  brain,  can  it  be  sufficiently  indicated. 
And  because  she  was  a  woman  of  rich  domestic 
life,  as  well  as  public  effort,  let  what  George 
Eliot  said  of  Dorothea  be  recorded  also  of 
her:  — 

"Her  full  nature,  like  that  river  of  which 
Alexander  broke  the  strength,  spent  itself  in 
channels  which  had  no  great  name  on  the 
earth.  But  the  effect  of  her  being  on  those 
around  her  was  incalculably  diffusive :  for  the 
growing  good  of  the  world  is  partly  dependent 
on  unhistoric  acts." 


312 


INDEX 


ADAMS,  Abigail,  intimacy  of, 
with  Mrs.  Warren,  49 ;  letters 
of,  68  et  seq.;  admiration  of, 
for  Mrs.  Warren's  literary 
skill,  158;  gifts  of,  229;  on 
the  status  of  women,  238. 

Adams,  John,  letter  of,  describ- 
ing the  Council  Chamber  in 
the  Old  Town  House,  41;  on 
the  argument  of  Otis,  43; 
letters  of,  to  General  Warren, 
49  et  seq. ;  dependence  of, 
upon  the  Warrens  for  coun- 
sel, 88;  letters  of,  to  his  wife, 
101  et  seq.;  on  the  Boston 
Tea  Party,  103;  on  small- 
pox, 129  ;  flattery  of  Mrs. 
Warren  for  her  literary  skill, 
157;  letter  of,  criticising  The 
History  of  the  Kevolution, 
212;  controversy  of,  with 
Mrs.  Warren,  213  et  seq.; 
reconciliation  of,  with  Mrs. 
Warren,  226. 

Adams,  Samuel,  congratula- 
tions of,  181 ;  on  the  Boston 
Massacre,  188  ;  pen  portrait 
of,  208. 

Adulator,  The,  176. 

Allyne,  Mary,  ancestry  of,  13. 


BACON,  Mercy,  13. 

Boutinot,  J.,  172. 

Boylston,  Dr.  Z.,  inoculates  for 

small-pox,  127. 
Bradford,    Governor,     literary 

style  of,  144. 
Broome,  Samuel,  276. 
Byles,   Dr.  Mather,   anecdotes 

of,  64;  on  small-pox,  130. 

CHATHAM,  address  of,  to  the 

House  of  Lords,  148. 
Chauncy,    Dr.,  assertions    of, 

63. 

Cincinnati,   Order  of  the,  de- 
scription of,  209. 
Clifford   Farm,  description   of, 

35  et  seq. 
Commencement  at  Harvard  in 

1722-27,  28;   in  James  Otis's 

time,  29. 
Committees  of  Correspondence, 

origin  of,  61. 
Cooper,   Dr.   Samuel,  writings 

of,  63. 

DICKINSON,  John,  188. 
Doten,  Edward,  arrival  in  May- 
flower, 13. 
Dudley,  Esther,  reference  to,  15. 


313 


INDEX 


ENDICOTT,  John,  20. 
Erving,  John,  172. 

FISKE,  John,  story  of  boyhood 
of,  22. 

Frankland,  Sir  Harry,  in  Lis- 
bon, 254. 

Franklin,  Dr.,  176. 

Freeman,  Rev.  James,  connec- 
tion of,  with  The  History  of 
the  Revolution,  193  et  seq.; 
letter  of,  to  James  Warreu, 
Jr.,  228;  on  Napoleon's 
career,  303. 

GAGE,  General,  arrival  of,  273. 

Gerry,  Elbridge,  mediation  of, 
2-26. 

Glastonbury,  4;  abbey  and  ab- 
bot of,  6. 

Gray,  Elizabeth,  marriage  of, 
12. 

Gray,  Harrison,  marriage  of 
daughter  of,  12. 

Gridley,  Jeremiah,  30;  defends 
the  Crown,  41. 

Group,  The,  a  satire,  164;  anal- 
ysis of,  165. 

HALEY,  Madam,  anecdotes  of, 
282. 

Hancock,  John,  pen  portrait  of, 
207. 

Hancock,  Mrs.,  55. 

Hingham,  home  of  John  Otis, 
7 ;  train  band  of,  7. 

Hobart,  Rev.  Peter,  2;  in  de- 
fence of  his  townsmen,  8; 
influence  of,  9. 

Hutchinson,  Anne,  21. 

Hutchinson,  Elisha,  171. 

Hutchinson,  Governor,  made 
Chief-Justice,  39;  satirized 


in  The  Group,  169;  pen  por- 
trait of,  205 ;  home  of,  in  Mil- 
ton, 266;  rural  tastes  of,  269; 
description  of  the  Boston  Tea 
Party,  272;  departure  of,  for 
England,  273;  love  of,  for 
Milton,  274;  correspondence, 
of,  275  ;  house  of,  at  Milton 
at  the  present  time,  284. 

JEFFREY,  Patrick,  marriage  of, 
282;  life  of,  in  the  Hutchin- 
son house,  283. 

Johnson,  Dr.,  on  Mrs.  Ma- 
caulay,  59. 

KENDALL,  Dr.,  310. 

LADIES  of  Castile,  The,  181; 

selections  from,  184. 

Leclnnere, ,  172. 

Lothrop,  Rev.  John,  arrival  of, 

in  Barnstable,  11. 

MACAULAY,  Mrs.,  position  of, 
in  Great  Britain,  56;  histori- 
cal studies  of,  57;  marriage 
of,  58;  as  described  by  Dr. 
Johnson,  59;  correspondence 
of,  with  Mrs.  Warren,  59; 
visit  of,  to  America,  60. 

Mather,  Cotton,  on  the  two 
Englands,  2;  belief  of,  in  in- 
oculation for  small-pox,  127; 
publication  by,  of  Magnalia, 
194. 

May  hew,  Dr.,  utterances  of,  63. 

Merry  Mount,  20. 

Montgomery,  Mrs.,  55;  prom- 
ise to,  247. 

OLIVER,  Andrew,  171. 
Oliver,  Chief  Justice  Peter,  171. 


314 


INDEX 


Otis  Farm,  location  of,  10. 

Otis,  Harrison  Gray,  12. 

Otis,  James,  12;  affection  of, 
for  his  sister  Mercy,  19; 
preparation  of,  for  college, 
23;  temperament  and  tastes 
of,  25;  enters  college,  25;  on 
culture,  26;  commencement 
of,  28;  begins  the  study  of 
law,  30 ;  marriage  of,  30 ;  dis- 
interestedness of  patriotism 
of,  40;  resigns  his  office  as 
Advocate-General,  41 ;  in  de- 
fence of  Boston  merchants, 
41;  eloquence  of,  43;  retire- 
ment of,  from  active  political 
life,  45;  accused  of  treason, 
46;  assailed  and  wounded, 
46 ;  close  of  public  career  of, 
46;  Vindication  of  the  con- 
duct of  the  House  of  Repre- 
sentatives, 187 ;  death  of,  253. 

Otis,  John,  arrival  of,  in  Massa- 
chusetts, 2;  spelling  of  name 
of,  3;  grant  of  land  to,  4; 
English  home  of,  5. 

Otis,  Joseph,  in  Revolution,  12. 

Otis,  Richard,  will  of,  4. 

Otis,  Samuel  Allvne,  marriage 
of,  12;  death  of,  308. 

PAYNE,  Thomas,  influence  of, 

188. 
Preston,  Captain,  trial  of,  188. 

RETREAT,  The,  176. 

Revolution,  The  History  of,  the, 
inception  and  character  of, 
191;  manuscript  of,  192;  sug- 
gestions for  titlepage  of,  197 ; 
estimate  for  publication  of, 
200;  pen  portraits  in,  204  et 
seq. 

Robbins,  Chandler,  310. 


Robinson,  John,  172. 
Ruggles,  Timothy,  171. 
Russell,  Rev.  Jonathan,  tutor 
of  James  and  Mercy  Otis,  23. 

SACK  of  Rome,  The,  181. 

Sever,  Sally,  299. 

Sewall,  Chief  Justice,  death  of, 
39. 

Sewall,  Jonathan,  in  defence  of 
Great  Britain,  188 ;  on  John 
Adams,  223. 

Seymour,  Mrs.,  Letters  on  Edu- 
cation of,  236. 

Shirley,  Governor,  40. 

Small-pox,  breaking  out  of,  127. 

Surriage,  Agnes,  in  Lisbon, 
254. 

TUDOR,  William,  letter  to,  43. 

WARREN,  Charles,  birth  of,  39 ; 
voyages  of,  256;  death  of, 
257. 

Warren,  George,  birth  of,  47; 
studies  law,  256;  settles  in 
Maine,  259;  illness  of,  260; 
death  of,  262. 

Warren,  Henry,  birth  of,  47; 
marriage  of,"  259;  birth  of 
son  to,  292;  descendants  of, 
312 ;  death  of,  312. 

Warren,  James,  meets  Merry 
Otis,  30;  marriage  of,  31; 
character  of,  33;  ancestry  of, 
33;  birth,  youth,  and  young 
manhood  of,  33;  appointed 
high  sheriff,  37;  love  of,  for 
agriculture,  37;  removal  of, 
to  Plymouth,  37 ;  prominence 
of,  in  public  affairs,  44; 
President  of  the  Provincial 
Congress  and  Paymaster- 
General,  44;  originates  idea 


315 


INDEX 


of  Committees  of  Correspond- 
ence, 61;  letters  of,  to  his 
wife,  71  et  seq. ;  as  a  writer, 
74;  description  of  battle  of 
Bunker  Hill,  74;  confidence 
of,  in  his  wife,  87;  on  small- 
pox, 131;  purchase  by,  of 
Governor  Hutchinson's  house 
at  Milton,  252;  love  of  home 
of,  261;  letters  of,  to  his  son 
Winslow,  277  et  seq. ;  offices 
held  by,  280;  return  of,  to 
Plymouth,  281 ;  death  of,  306. 

Warren,  James,  Jr.,  birth  of, 
38;  foreign  cruise  of,  278; 
wounded,  278 ;  death  of,  312. 

Warren,  Mercy  Otis,  ancestry 
of,  2;  birth  of,  10;  given 
name  of,  13 ;  childhood  of,  16 ; 
books  of  her  day,  18 ;  affec- 
tion of,  for  her  brother  James, 
19 ;  intellectual  sympathy  of, 
with  her  brother,  23;  passion 
of,  for  history,  23;  attends 
her  brother's  Commence- 
ment, 28 ;  visits  of,  to  Plym- 
outh, 30 ;  marriage  of,  31 ; 
life  of,  at  Clifford  Farm,  37; 
removal  of,  to  Plymouth,  37; 
births  of  her  sons,  James  and 
Winslow,  38;  birth  of  her 
son  Charles,  39;  letter  of,  to 
her  brother  James,  46 ;  birth 
of  her  sons,  Henry  and 
George,  47;  letters  of,  to 
John  Adams,  47  et  seq. ;  in- 
timacy of,  with  Abigail 
Adams,  49  ;  on  her  husband's 
character,  53 ;  correspond- 
ence of,  with  distinguished 
men,  56;  acquaintance  of, 
with  Mrs.  Macaulay,  56;  let- 
ters of,  to  her  husband,  78 
et  seq. ;  tendency  of,  to  moral- 


ize, 83;  letters  of,  to  Abigail 
Adams,  104  et  seq. ;  poem  of, 
entitled  The  Squabble  of  the 
Sea  Nymphs,  or  The  Sacri- 
fice of  the  Tuscararoes,  107; 
other  poems  of,  109  et  seq.', 
social  graces  of,  121 ;  skill  of, 
in  character  drawing,  125; 
on  the  small-pox,  131 ;  in- 
tellectual environment  of, 
137 ;  moral  impulse  of  literary 
work  of,  153;  flattery  of, 
from  John  Adams,  157;  abil- 
ity of,  as  a  satirist,  164;  The 
Group,  164;  The  Adulator 
and  The  Retreat,  176;  vol- 
um6  of  poems  of,  including 
The  Sack  of  Rome  and  The 
Ladies  of  Castile.  181;  mo- 
tives of,  in  writing  the  for- 
mer, 181;  moral  earnestness 
of,  187;  patriotic  zeal  of,  188; 
The  History  of  the  Revolu- 
tion, 191;  on  the  Order  of 
the  Cincinnati,  209;  contro- 
versy of,  with  John  Adams 
regarding  The  History  of  the 
Revolution,  212  et  seq.;  rec- 
onciliation of,  with  John 
Adams,  226;  character  of, 
233;  intellectual  life  of,  235; 
on  Moliere,  237;  on  the  status 
of  women,  240  et  seq.;  on 
Lord  Chesterfield's  Letters, 
244;  on  Mrs.  Macaulay 's 
marriage,  245 ;  Copley's  por- 
trait of,  246;  letters  of,  to 
her  son  Winslow,  251  et  seq.; 
makes  her  home  in  Milton, 
252;  on  the  death  of  her 
brother,  James  Otis,  253; 
affection  of,  for  her  son 
Winslow,  257;  letters  of,  to 
her  son  George,  260 ;  youth- 


316 


INDEX 


ful  spirit  of,  261 ;  description 
of  home  of,  at  Milton,  265; 
illness  of,  278;  literary  work 
of,  280;  return  of,  to  Plym- 
outh, 281 ;  dread  of  monarch- 
ical tendencies,  295  et  seq.; 
affection  of,  for  the  young, 
300;  effect  of  age  on,  302; 
craving  of,  for  affection,  303; 
on  Napoleon's  career,  305; 
death  of,  309;  burial  of,  310; 
relics  of,  310;  influence  of, 
312. 

Warren,  Richard,  death  of,  35. 

Warren,  Winslow,  birth  of,  38; 
Copley's  portrait  of,  247; 
social  graces  of,  248 ;  depart- 
ure of,  for  Europe,  249; 
arrest  of,  in  London,  250 ; 
visit  of,  to  Lisbon,  254;  re- 
turn of,  257;  departure  of, 
for  the  West,  258;  death 
of,  258. 

Washington,  George,  letters  of, 
to  Mrs.  Warren,  180;  pen 
portrait  of,  204. 


Washington,  Mrs.,  65. 
Weary-All-Hill,    location    and 

name  of,  4. 
Wentworth,  Colonel,  letter  to, 

128. 

Whiteneld,  in  Cambridge,  27. 
Wigglcsworth,     Dr.,      refutes 

Whitefield's  charges,  28. 
Wilkes,  John,  282. 
Wilson,  Dr.,  58. 
Winslow,  Mary,  marriage  of, 

259. 

Winslow,  Pelham,  259. 
Winslow,    Penelope,   marriage 

of,  38. 
Winthrop,  Hannah,  55;    letter 

of,  to  Mrs.  Warren,  101;  on 

the  battle  of  Lexington,  113; 

on  small-pox,  129. 
Winthrop,    John,    prosecution 

and     acquittal     of,     8;     on 

women,  156. 
Winthrop,  Professor,  55. 
Witchcraft,  influence  of,  21. 


317 


WOMEN  OF  COLONIAL 
REVOLUTIONARY   TIMES 

OW    READY: 

Mercy  Warren 

By  Alice  Brown 

Eliza  Pinckney 

By  Harriott  Horry  Ravenel 

Dolly  Madison 

By  Maud  Wilder  Goodwin 

Margaret  Winthrop 

By  Alice  Morse  Earle. 

Eisb  tcitb  photogravure  portrait  or  facsimile  reproduction,  gilt  top, 
iuu-ut  edges,  Si.af. 

THE    SET,   FOUR   VOLUMES   IN  A   BOX,   $5.00. 

The  purpose  of  this  series  is  to  present  not 
only  carefully  studied  portraits  of  the  most 
distinguished  women  of  Colonial  and  Revolu- 
tionary times,  but  pictures,  as  backgrounds 
for  these  portraits,  of  the  domestic  and  social, 
instead  of  the  political  and  other  public  life  of 
the  people  in  successive  periods  of  national  de- 
velopment. The  project  thus  includes  a  series 
of  closely  connected  narratives,  vivid  in  color 
and  of  the  highest  social  and  historical  value, 
of  the  manners  and  customs,  the  ways  of  life, 
and  the  modes  of  thought  of  the  people  of  the 
various  sections  of  the  country  from  the  days 
of  the  earliest  colonists  down  to  the  middle  of 
the  present  century.  The  cordial  reception  of 
the  series  by  the  public  is  an  indication  of  the 
widespread  interest  that  is  taken  in  the  study 
from  authentic  documents  of  the  daily  lives 
of  the  people  in  Colonial  and  Revolutionary 
times. 


MERCY  WARREN  (sister  of  James  Otis). 
By  ALICE  BROWN,  author  of  "  Agnes  Surriagc," 
"  Meadow-Grass,"  etc.  With  Portrait  in  Pho- 
togravure, 12mo,  $1.25. 

Miss  Brown's  book  gives  a  graphic  picture  of 
the  social,  domestic,  literary,  and  political  life 
in  Eastern  Massachusetts  as  Mercy  Warren 
knew  it  during  and  after  the  Revolution. 
Chapter  Headings 

I— In  the  Beginning  VIII— The  History  of  the  Eev- 

II— Barnstable  Days  olution 

III -Life  at  Plymouth  IX— An  Historical  Difference 

IV — The  Testimony  of  Letters  X— Thought  and  Opinion 

V-The  Woman's  Part  XI— The  Beloved  Son 

VI-Early  American  Literature  XII— On  Milton  Hill 

VI I- Literary  Work  XIII— Terminus 

ELIZA  PINCKNEY  (wife  of  Chief  Justice 
Pinckney,  of  South  Carolina).  By  HARRIOTT 
HORRY  RAVENEL,  Great-great-granddaughter 
of  Mrs.  Pinckney.  With  Facsimile  Repro- 
duction, 12ino,  $1.25. 

Milwaukee  Sentinel:  "In  the  life  of  Eliza  Pinck- 
ney a  wholly  new  chapter  is  opened  from  the 
carefully  conned  history  of  our  Kew  York  and 
New  England,  or  even  our  Maryland  and  Vir- 
ginia, ancestors." 

Philadelphia  Press:  "Mrs.  Ravenel's  book  is  of 
quite  exceptional  value,  and  depicts  in  great  de- 
tail and  with  an  indescribable  charm  the  manners 
and  customs  of  a  past  generation.  It  has  a 
decided  historical  as  well  as  an  intimate  personal 
interest." 

St.  Paul  Pioneer  Press :  "  The  record  of  her  life, 
as  shown  in  the  letters  written  and  received  by 
her,  gives  a  picture  of  the  period  which  is  digni- 
fied and  admirable  from  every  point  of  view.  The 


character  of  the  woman  herself  stands  out  with 
unusual  distinctness." 

Chicago  Inter-  Ocean :  "  The  book  presents  a  series 
of  as  beautiful  and  artistic  pictures  of  life  in  the 
South,  from  the  middle  to  the  latter  part  of  the 
last  century,  as  could  be  drawn." 

DOLLY  MADISON  (wife  of  James  Madison). 
By  MAUD  WILDER  GOODWIN,  author  of  "  The 
Colonial  Cavalier,"  «  The  Head  of  a  Hundred," 
etc.  With  Portrait  in  Photogravure,  12mo, 
$1.25. 

Atlantic  Monthly:  "The  Story  of  Dolly  Madison 
gives  us  a  pleasant  gossiping  account  of  life  in  the 
social  circles  of  the  post-Revolutionary  era." 
Congregationalist:  "  Mrs.  Goodwin's  entertaining 
style  and  thorough  familiarity  with  the  age  make 
the  volume  a  fascinating  one." 
N.  Y.  Sun:  "This  is  something  more  than  an 
account  of  a  person ;  it  is  a  sketch,  done  in 
careful  but  still  easy  fashion,  affording  glimpses 
of  life  and  manners  in  Virginia  and  in  Washington 
during  the  last  half  of  the  eighteenth  and  the  first 
half  of  the  present  century.  .  .  .  We  repeat,  that 
this  is  an  unusually  good  piece  of  biographical 
work.  It  is  well  written,  and  it  displays  an 
admirable  sense  of  what  is  worth  while.  Mrs. 
Goodwin  is  to  be  congratulated." 

MARGARET  WINTHROP  (wife  of  Gover- 
nor John  Winthrop,  of  Massachusetts).  By 
ALICE  MORSE  EARLE.  With  Facsimile  Repro- 
duction, 12mo,  $1.25. 

N.  Y.  Tribune :  "  It  is  a  vivid  portraiture  of  the 
life  of  the  Puritan  woman,  and  properly  introduces 
the  series  of  volumes  in  which  we  are  to  see  the 


social  development  of  the  country  illustrated  in 
the  careers  of  representative  women  of  Colonial 
and  Revolutionary  times." 

Boston  Advertiser:  "The  volume  is  history,  biog- 
raph}',  romance  combined.  It  is  accurate  in  its 
descriptions,  authoritative  in  its  statements,  and 
exquisitely  charming  in  its  portraiture.  Mrs. 
Earle  has  already  done  some  excellent  work ; 
but  her  'Margaret  Winthrop'  is  her  best,  and 
can  hard  I}-  fail  to  become  a  classic." 
Chicago  Dial:  "Outwardly  the  volume — a 
shapely,  well-printed  duodecimo,  prettily  bound 
in  crimson  linen,  with  plain  gold  lettering  —  is 
a  model  of  taste  ;  and,  altogether,  the  publishers 
are  to  be  congratulated  on  the  conception  and, 
thus  far,  the  execution  of  their  venture." 

In  Preparation 

MARTHA  WASHINGTON.  By  ANNE  H. 
WHAETON,  author  of  "  Through  Colonial  Door- 
ways," "  Colonial  Days  and  Dames,"  etc.  With 
Portrait  in  Photogravure,  12mo,  $1.25. 

Miss  Wharton's  studies  in  the  social  life  of 
the  Colonial  and  Revolutionary  periods,  which 
have  given  her  a  multitude  of  appreciative 
readers,  qualify  her  admirably  for  the  task  of 
portraying  the  personality  and  the  times  of 
Washington's  spouse.  Chapter  Headings 

T— A  Little  Virginia  Maid  VT— A  Journey  to  Cambridge 

II— An  Early  Marriage  VII— Camp  Life 

III-The      Young     Virginia  VIII— After  the  War 

Colonel  IX — Life  in  New  York 

IV— Early  Days  at  Mt.  Vernon  X— Philadelphia  the  Capital 

V— The'Shadow  of  Coining  XI — Last  Days  at  Mt.  Vernon 
Events 

Charles  Scribner's  Sons,  Publishers 
153-157  Fifth  Avenue,  New  Ywk 


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